In Passing

Welcome back to Poetry Monday. Since we all seemed to have survived the excesses of the Thanksgiving holiday, let’s continue with our current theme of travel. One of its joys is the chance meeting with a stranger, and the free interplay of ideas and stories produced in these encounters, no doubt aided by the anonymity of our traveling identities.

in passing

in Venice I met a Jordanian.

easy friendliness, not an eager dog,

but someone who can take it or leave it.

we clipped through the preliminary questions

and took seats on the patio to begin talking.

his stories made the space between us a window,

threw it open on days and nights in other lands.

in the morning, he was moving south, I north.

I didn’t see him again.

but he stayed with me a while,

a scent of possibility in the air.

p. ferenczi

This entry was posted in America, friendship, Poetry, Relatioships, Thoughts & Musings, Travel and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

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