Marrow

I was basking in that precious brand
of warm, mid-Autumn sunshine
with the afternoon's first cigarette
dangling from my lips
as a man, perhaps a vagrant
careened westward down the sidewalk.

He reached into the garbage can
spewing on the corner
and removed a brown beer bottle
that a merrymaker left.
At first I thought the refund
was the gent's intended bounty
until he tipped the bottom up
to suck a stranger's swill.
When the last drop hit his tongue
like the gods' most sacred nectar
he jettisoned the longneck
moving on about his day.
I thought I did the same
until it dawned on me this evening
that he must be out there somewhere
grabbing joy by its thin throat.

I've seen cowardice so blatant
that I've looked for hairless tails
and I've walked by dusty mirrors
and lakes on windless days
but the bravest man I've seen this week
was chasing down a thirst
that no white boy prone to staring
could make him fail to savor.