Sketchy characters

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I’m trying something new for a poem I’m thinking about. I’ve started a character sketch of, for lack of a better word, the main character. I’ve been thinking about random questions about who this man is, what motivates him, where he’s been, and what he thinks. It’s been an interesting experience, and I’ve put more time into it than I sometimes put into a poem. For all I know, this man may only take up two lines, but I do feel that I know him better. For this sketch, this man will fit better in those two lines then he possibly could otherwise. Here’s a little piece of it:

This man’s name is David. He likes brown leather shoes.

He likes to play checkers.

His favorite breakfast is oatmeal with a big pat of butter, a little dash of cream, a spoonful of brown sugar, and raisins.

He got his first kiss when he was 18 from a girl named Mabel. She had blond hair and smelled like lavender. They’d gone to church together forever and they were in the parsonage after Sunday school (she taught), and he pulled her into the stair well and kissed her. She slapped him, but she smiled as she walked away. He saw it.

And now, today’s self portrait, in honor of boot weather, which I love: