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A Stranger That I Know
by
Paul Curtis
I approached a stranger, a woman
Though not a stranger, some how familiar
In some way, In her pale eyes I saw what?
Recognition? There was something but what
We held each other’s gaze and then she stood
We faced each other in silence, watching
She offered her hand to me smiling
I took it and smiled back, in silence
Her hand soft and gentle lay on my own
Then her fine delicate fingers fitted
Between mine like pieces of a puzzle
Placed to fit perfectly, completing
A picture of lost moments found once more
She spoke and opened an eternal door
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