Ian’s affected by gravity
Differently than me or you.
It seems he’s inherited buoyancy.
In between steps, he becomes unglued
From the earth a split second longer
Than normal. His jacket bobs on his shoulders,
His grip on things has grown stronger
Since childhood when a breeze snatched his folder.
Lightest of all is the look
In his eyes, if he happens to catch your gaze:
Knowing, amused, like he shook
Your hand and saw your arm hair raise.