His Grand Achievement

You saw him
squatting,
squinting at you

in the dark red air.
Less suspicious
than myopic:

as if he couldn’t
quite make out
just who was there.

He didn’t seem
to care. His grand
achievement

was his hair.
Dark and golden
bright cascading

blare and flare.
You wanted to do
something to

or for him
he’d remember.
You didn’t dare.




.