Spanish Moss

No gutter man.
The day we met,
swimming straight
out of the bayou,
you shone. Light
only came through
the sun and iris.
Back then, you wore
the perfect shade --
a faded, hand-me-down
sweater, a shy cut,
an original number,
surely home-threaded,
hand-woven by spiders
using only the finest
Spanish moss.
No gutter man.

C.A. MacConnell