twenty four hours and a storm front

the man without all his hair
smiled twice
first at me, I think
for my long locks

the next time at the sun
for the warm lovers caress
where his sparseness lost its sexiness

the moment passed quickly
and I forgot him
until today
when I saw him on the park bench
balder

his face caressed gently in his meaty palms
as if trying to catch each sob

I should have stopped
fixed his jacket square on his shoulders
hugged him hard
and promised him he'd make it.

I looked for the sun
but today it was black clouds
and an icy northeast wind.

My hair reached toward him
but my eyes ran.