You were our patron saint, yet still they blame us for only praying to be famous
Late last night, I discovered this photograph:

It's David Lean in 1943, on the set of This Happy Breed. I found the image unattributed on a site devoted to his movies; I thought it was a film still. I had never seen a picture of him before. He could have been one of his own leads. I wouldn't wish him out of his directing career—for all I know, he was a block in front of the camera—but that's a character actor's face if ever I've seen one. He looks like a very ascetic faun.

It's David Lean in 1943, on the set of This Happy Breed. I found the image unattributed on a site devoted to his movies; I thought it was a film still. I had never seen a picture of him before. He could have been one of his own leads. I wouldn't wish him out of his directing career—for all I know, he was a block in front of the camera—but that's a character actor's face if ever I've seen one. He looks like a very ascetic faun.

no subject
I want to bring a poem out of this image, except I don't think I could come up with one that's better than the photograph.
(Well, actually, he looks too old for Justin, but he still does feel like he could come from a story of yours, even if not a *precise* story.)
Thank you! I like interesting faces.
faun poem
And when you do, that faun face is going to smile and say, "I knew you wouldn't fail me."