Man on the street (a poem)

Something I saw while driving home from the post office earlier today…

Arms held out—fists turned up
he walks down the street
barely acknowledging the cars speeding past

Arms held out—fists turned up
the grimace on his face
suggests everything—but says nothing

Arms held out—fists turned up
neither posture is any defense
against the cloudburst to come

Arms held out—fists turned up
who, exactly, is this person?
What, exactly, is his story?

Arms held out—fists turned up
is he walking home?
or leaving home?

Arms held out—fists turned up
is he any different from me?

(17 October 2017)