He was a pastor's kid
with a jawline reminiscent of Clark Gable.
A dimple square in the middle
of a square chin with a little boy grin.
The kind that he learned early
got him what he wanted.
And I tip toed barefoot
through the moss and rotting leaves
towards the water's edge.
I called out to him.
He heard me.
But could not turn away from that magical image.
Such a square jawline.
Eyes that could be green or blue,
depending on the lighting.
I walked away before I became my own echo.
I recently saw a picture of him
and he already has crow's feet.
No laugh lines.
