Concrete sonnets 2

The sidewalk slapped up at each step he took as if his thoughts
lay spread out beneath him unavoidably blocking his path
and insisting on his full attention.

The quarters fell from his fingers as he dug for them
in his pocket. They felt clumsy now and a silly habit.

As if to outwit himself he changed his gait suddenly
only to find himself bumping into passersby he wouldn't
normally notice.

The sidewalk refused to echo the familiar tattoo from his leather soles
as it orchestrated his thoughts with the harsh hand of a friend
who knows the feel of reluctance towards a troubled step.

The reflection from the street lights only reminded him of
darker thoughts and what waited around the next comer.
He felt as strong as the concrete, but like the concrete
he knew he'd never cure.