A Good Man

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Sometimes you just know.  You see someone, and your heart tells you, your mind tells you, This is a good person.  I can trust her.  Don’t ask me how.  It is something in the eyes, the set of the jaw, a softness of features, and a real spiritual, intuitive sense.  I experienced this recently with someone, and at a place, I did not expect.  But there he was.  A good man.  And I knew it.

A GOOD MAN

Today I met
A Good Man.
I know that
he may not know
himself.
His tremulous hands have
lost touch,
and his feet shuffle
through forgetting.
But the slight lifting
of grizzled cheeks
and his liquid blue eyes
looking into me
from behind bushy gray
brows, like a warm sky
through Spring’s maples and mimosas:
they told me.

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