He obviously suffered a sound beating.
I look around for another Samaritan
and finding none, gently rouse him
to a seating position against
the pocked and brickle stone.
"Thank you" he works, barely succeeding
through splitting and fruit-ripened lips.
"I do appreciate this random kindness"
"Least I can do", I offer in turn,
not entirely certain how to proceed;
His peacock-proud face parades in full bloom,
it's unclear how much more he can deal with tonight.
I hunch down beside him.
"Did you manage to see who did this to you?"
Seems most appropriate, after consulting
his red jelly-bean teeth and bulging contusion;
An inquiry of health would be utterly redundant.
A shake in response, and soon followed by
a piercing squint and wince.
He touches the new foreign shape on his head,
with the same tending fingers that hold eggs up to light.
I fear it will hatch, and scramble to leave.
"Just sit tight, and I'll get you some help."
In quick regression to youth,
his eyes start to shine as I rise.
Who knew that folds
of creased leather could bind
so much more than one man's earnings and credit;
With a soft plop, his wallet then fell
from my jacket, to the pavement between us.
