Ode To A Stranger
Ode To A Stranger


Dear stranger, how I admire you.
From your notepad to your cup of coffee, or is it herbal tea?
Whatever it may be
I see something in you that's seldom found.
Culture, vision, and creativity that is in you so renowned.
I continue to glance over at you naturally, drawn to who you may be.
You're not the "old' " mystery man",
But a sight I can't refuse to see
From the beautiful flaw on your neck
To the laces of your shoes and their arc
The curiosity I have for what a specimen you are
grows as the seconds pass like the beating of my heart.
Who are you? If I may ask, how I want to walk up to you.
But you sit still over there, as I over here, do too.
Are we two of kind? I'm doing the same thing, writing in my book.
But look, are you writing about me?
I doubt it, why should you anyway?
You know me not, nor do I know you.
But I see your head glancing around, looking for inspiration there?
Or is that too out of the blue?
Sincerely, the young girl with notepad anew, tables across from you.