I felt someone with a sturdy hand,
he carries with him a tilted cap
like a drunkard who care not of its median.
He walks with an easy gait
like a column-braced person
its shoulder steady and his hands swaying
marching with his feet
A trait he took from saving the world like zorro.
His eyes is ringed by blue
that reveals his first calling --
Past his birthplace through the dense forest
where wild boars, deers, snakes, and monkeys roam
he trek, loathing at the invite of the steep ravine
as high as Taipei 101,
fighting the hands
of the river that pull every step
even with monkey feet
open to a stairs of paddies
build with bare hands
to reach out and blubber A, B, and C.
He is dressed casually with slacks and short sleeves polo,
but his shoes got a life of its own --
blaring black at the clouds and its sole is creamed
with mud like his father tilled the land and secure the cow.
His donut lips draw the hurdles
he successfully own with a smirk.
A man, walking beside me,
grabbed my hand,
he waited for his son for a snack.
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