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Click herehe is not a poet-
his mind covers me when i'm cold
thinks of plans and possibilities
while i wander
picking stories out of the past.
he does not dance-
his body solid, earthbound
a tether
when the wind catches and flings me
on memories' breezes.
he is not haunted-
brooding introspection far from
his quiet eyes
smiling at me without regard for all but
now and here and we.
Sounds like a personal piece, praising the man in your life for the qualities he has which serve as counterpoint to your more freewheeling outlook. Did this rather well without overdoing the comparisons.