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Stranger

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August 10, 2011 by Heather Harris

I don’t know you.

You don’t know me.

In a passing glance,

Your eyes meet mine,

In a moment that might have been designed.

Were we meant to see

In this place, here

You walking there

My head turned right

In time to catch your line of sight?

Or is it chance,

Only seeming like

Both of us here

In this same place

Were meant to see the other’s face?

I don’t know you.

You don’t know me.

In a passing glance,

Your eyes meet mine,

In a moment when our thoughts entwine,

A moment that might have been designed.

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