As I Lay Drunk

Photo by Matt Hoffman on Unsplash

As I lay drunk upon the steps
that led down to my flat
an old babushka stepped by me.
She stopped, turned around and peered
close into my closed eyes.

Unconsciously, I felt the pressure
from her gaze. She reached into
her bag, found a flask of water,
and gently placed it by my head.
She could have left me, the dead
drunk I was, most people do.

Perhaps she saw in me some child
lost, alone from long ago —
helpless, but too hurt to ask.
I woke to find the flask still there.
A worn-out blanket covered me.