the man

Everything that he does is quiet. He speaks quietly, he walks quietly and I wonder if he makes love quietly. His limp makes him appear as though he were carrying an invisible briefcase filled with gold bars; a hefty and pricey weight to be under. The white of his hair is perhaps the most fundamental part of his being. Ashen wisps thickly drape his scull stopping short of the ears, respectfully. The facial hair, though white, highlights his stately manner adding a youthful type of wisdom. His cane, while essential, is more part of the essence. When he opens his mouth I do not listen. I can only watch his lips which utter tenor tones that quickly dissipate into the harsh devouring air. What does he whisper into the ears of others? He is a man made for whispering words that make one melt.