We backed out of the lower driveway and up the hill to go down into town,
Early afternoon,
I was a passenger,
On the right side,
The house across the street from mine,
In the yard was a man,
Not too much older than I am now I think,
Sitting,
Legs spread,
In the grass,
Reaching for things,
One hand then the other,
Eyes blind or rather seeing a world intertwined with another,
One I’ve seen before when the lights moved with will in the woods at night yet I could see everything so bright,
In the yard,
In the grass,
In that moment,
That’s what he was reaching for,
Must be drunk says the driver as the passenger looks on idly as the man looking past what’s there begins to fade out of view,
Reflecting from the rear view,
Days later they found him,
In the house,
Days prior to our encounter was the last he was said to have been seen,
Until it was known that they were seen by me,
The lights are different beyond the street light glare way out there,
Up at least one cliff level,
I don’t know what they look like around here,
But they did,
And it didn’t end well for them,
The last to see them,
Another responsibility of mine,
Another time,
Another moment,
One moment,
I’m sorry,
-Lucid
They said they fell and hit their head,
They said they fell and hit their head,