Waves from Beyond: Day 10 NaPoWriMo, Portrait Poem

I knew a man with thin lips, a sharp

chin, clean-shaven then later burly

with beard.  This man wasn’t tall,

but he was muscular  and  would

flex his biceps if you touched  his

arm. He was always wanting, even

when plenty came to our fields and

door.  He drank hard and once moved,

worked hard.  He greeted lightning with

glee and the night aurora he always sought

eagerly. He would  tell you about far off

universes:  red  dwarfs   and   black

holes. He once climbed a tall tree

in a wind storm, John Muir-like.

Another time,  he  flung  himself

into the middle of a whirling  dust

devil, tumbling out, sticks in his hair.

This man entered my world at seventeen,

me ready, desiring my own child to love. But

the rest of our days  together his neediness 

grew,  begging for more.  In his pursuit of

comfort  feelings, he  began  raging at me,

trifling with my heart, spending more time

and energy on finding his next whiskey drink

or beer to chug, than concern for those he loved.