He stood against the old barn door
relaxed not a con frontational bone
in his trim body
Farm hand, hunter, true shooter
the lens did him justice
A ring of white T-shirt gave a reverse
halo to his square jaw
loose fitting pants which rumpled
just right topped his kick ass boots
He stood against that old barn door
who held up who the real question
a bit of James Dean in pocket pressed hands
Paul Newman in his eyes
flannel hugged him [when the woman weren't]
capped by a bent brimmed hat
he rolled to perfection
I'm sure the nametag on his shirt
didn't do him justice
“Zakaria” was printed in Crossroads, No. 8 of Inwood Indiana. Pick up the paperback from Prolific Press; the stories and poems published online are free to read here.
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