This man

This man, once unknown, still unknown
Aged three years older than I am
Together we have braved, towns and cities.
Our lives have twined together
In accord for many a year

This man older now than when we first met
The jobs and places he has worked
Have kept us in bed, kept us on bikes
And all the time at table together
At pillow together

This man full of poetry in his head
Not a sharer, not a talker
A writer, silent at this desk
The only solitude he can conjure
In this tiny house

This man full of words, novels
Poems, plays, writing,
It’s all to come
His genius cannot be

Underground forever.

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