I had seen you on television
where you were easily ignored
but here you breathe
twenty feet from me
black as coal
with the same potential
to burn

from the set of shoulders
like cannonballs
through massive chest
articulate fingers
that could crack bone
and cup infants

What is this majestic
not primitive
not natural

It is your connectedness
the roots and trunks
dawns and calls
are you
and you them

Then I see
written in the depthless
sadness of your eyes
the bars 
are not to protect me

A response to Susan's prompt.

Almost certainly I should edit this for the hackneyed bits – but heck – critical feedback welcome.