Craggy face and stringy hair; he was
no knight in shining armor
but an outlaw; a man with flaws
of character and flesh
who came into my life and stole my heart
for just awhile.

He taught me about life, and trust, and me
and stayed just long enough
before he tried to take it all away.
I leaned on him; never seeing
that his own foundation was built on
shifting sands.

He was my friend, my teacher. He was my lesson,
and I learned.
I learned salvation need not come to me by way of angels
but that it can arrive on the back of a refuse truck
stinking and smarting
and I will learn just the same.