An Older Gentleman

You walk fast down the shod, black, damp wooden stairs
Your back is crooked from some unknown injury
I wonder if it was war, or a fall from a tree as a child, or bad bone structure
Or an accident involving an automobile
Your weathered, wind torn face is shining
Your cheeks ruddy
You hold a small basket filled with your most prized possessions:
I can tell because of the way you clutch them close to your chest
Shoulders hunched: protecting.
You are missing more than one tooth and a wart is growing under your left eyelid
Your eyes are stormy and overcast in color but twinkling and shimmering with joy
You finger the agate, obsidian, graphite, aluminum, and crystals
You allow me to touch one clear blue stone
"Hold it up to the light" you say, "and see how you see through it"
Clear like a clean window pane

You go down to the shore every morning and comb for treasure
The things that are more than valuable
More than simply important
They are precious
And through your dusty camper windows and broken down metal siding and tossed together deckwork
They sparkle,
And as you casually mention the free firewood and complimentary bag of marshmallows you bought us out of your own pocket
You shine.