He sat there as shallow as a screen
collecting weight and opinions.
All the same, there was something about
him, something that caught a corner
of my mind that’s penetrable, by
a certain type of person in
a certain way, that steals and sways me
like a drunken woman; eyes foggy
with the mist of a thousand summer
mornings promising the heat of
A silver lining and the rain of a cloudy end.
Mum’s the word 