You Don't Know Me But

This poem by Laura Grace Weldo speaks to me of all the little chance meetings I miss these days, and of the wishes I hold for all of us.

Artwork by John Kohlepp Jr.

You Don't Know Me But

I miss you, fellow walkers – dad with double stroller,

rainbow legging woman, earnest black hound hauling

graybeard man on a never-slack leash.

I miss the Marc’s check-out clerk with three nose rings,

bitten nails, sardonic asides.

Miss the librarian whose voice is soft as my mother’s was...

As a courtesy to the author, I am posting just the few opening lines here. You can read the rest at gratefulness.org. I think you'll be glad you did. The ending is lovely and quietly uplifting.