turns many heads
as he glides across a room.
a mellifluous sound,
envelopes me like mist
on a winter morning.
He has pearly, neat handwriting
that leans in a different direction
every other day.
He is also kind.
An incorrigible affinity to broken wings,
He likes to fix people
and their problems (on occasion).
Is his heart full of compassion?
Or is he trying to escape
his own life by finding the solution
to any problem
other than his own?