All I know are faces
With acknowledgements
and smiles.
I do not
know their occupations,
Hobbies,
likes or styles.
With few
exceptions, even names
Are
mysteries to me,
As well as where
they live or hints
Of
personality.
I’m talking
of my morning “friends,”
To whom I
say hello –
The doormen
and the other walkers
I don’t
really know.
They add a
bit of sunshine
To the start
of many days,
Without the
complications
Some relationships
might raise.
A smile, a
nod, a simple wave –
Enough to
thus connect.
Any more
might be a disappointment;
That’s what
I’d expect.
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