that you lose their faces.
They are the world
for which you live.
Two eyes may stare
as two others pass
and never acknowledge
the soul passing there.
You race the crosswalk,
they cross the sidewalk;
you obey lights and
resident rules.
She was yours, somewhere,
if iris found iris;
but he glanced at Heaven
and caught her spark.
(Do not walk so fast
that you lose their faces.
They are the world
for which you live.)
September 21, 2010