He’s called Niall,

and he’s seated on a low wall

outside the cathedral in Edinburgh,

in a photo by J. D. Price.

twenty-something maybe,

probably at university,

dressed in layers of navy

with high-top brogues.

Wavy natural-blond hair,

roundish transparent-framed glasses

complement his clear white skin,

his smooth clean-shaven face

accented by wet red lips

that hint at a sensuous streak

otherwise kept from all

but his closest intimates.

Grey-blue eyes, cool but not hard,

suggest a degree of intellectual detachment;

not the type prone to emotional display,

but a sensitive soul with tenderer depths

than he would choose to reveal.

Obviously he can think,

but one wants to make him feel.


Note:  This poem was inspired by a street-fashion photograph by Jonathan Daniel Price for


Copyright 2014

T. Allen Culpepper

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