A/N: This is just a collection of character sketches of people I know, people I have met. Each person is real and has left an impression on me in some way. Inspired by a English writing assignment for Chaucer's Canterbury Tales, I decided I just keep writing them. They don't really rythm and I think are more prose than poetry but, oh well, it still works.

The Stranger

Down the street he sauntered,

Each step with aristocratic grace

Carrying daintily in his right hand,

Between marble white fingers, a glowing cigarette

His suit was very fine;

Sharp, black pinstripes ironed straight

And upon his head a matching fedora tilted to the side;

He was the picture of a dark Adonis;

From behind a halo of ebony curls

Two sapphire eyes shimmered;

Mysterious and civil was he

For as we passed, strangers,

Our eyes met

And we were friends;

With one hand he tipped his hat

And sauntered on.