Watching Zachary; Recalling "Barry"

He may belong here: I am
Watching Someone else as he curls back his foot
To match his cupped hand. Behind mirror-glasses staring
With the intensity of a Caesar. The
Dark of eye
And hair tensing. Even tho'
The difference
Of it is an early leaf
Turning green because it is expected.
He is
Ephemeral: only a week-day lover, and here it is,
Sunday. The storms rush
In on waves and currents drawn
From the Atlantic Air.

Almost…Adriatic. Both Dark. Both Southern in that. If I may assume.

A blackbird with
Ragged flight and uneven
Wingfeathers arcs like
A comet
Foretelling the death of a
King.