Yes, He's Breathing

It could have been hilarity,
it could even have been rage,
the bellowing that rang across the busy street--
it could have been a woman,
it could have been a child,
I could have turned my head to see--
but so intent was I
on dodging filthy mounds of snow,
and the pleading eyes of panhandlers
sprawled against the wall--
but then he lurched across the street,
through traffic willy nilly,
and collapsed, fetal like,
against a rank of rental bikes.

I doubled back and whipped out my phone
as he uncoiled, and kicked out so hard
bikes went over like dominos.

--Yes, the corner of ellsworth and fenton
--Yes, he’s breathing
--Maybe 30--or even younger still
--Yes, I will wait til they arrive...

Squatting, I grasped his fist--
--can you tell me your name?
ARRRGGGGG!
--it’s ok, help is on the way...

Then he kicked again,
spinning himself on his hip--
three more bikes went over.
I stood to give him space
as another man in business dress
caught the action on his shiny phone.

...and yes of course I stayed until
some lanky boys in blue
sauntered from the ambulance,
snapping on their rubber gloves--
one even knew the man,
and called him by his name.

The crowd began to leave,
and I went on my way,
in search of sprouting daffodil--
knowing that they're weeks away.