Green Man

Who’s he?
What’s he want?

Where’s he come from?
Why’s he green?

Why did brain and fingers
conjure up suggestions

of the enigmatically
particular conundrum

he’s apparently just seen?
Or is he blank

as pencil dust?
Or is he whom you ought

to thank for keeping bright
a private sense

of tenderness?:
why are all the best things

secret? What is there
to peek at through

those gently tense
withholding eyes?

Wonder if a drawing
ever cries.

.