Unintentional Touch

He had no idea where he was that morning.

Between the challenges,
And confusion of
His personal,
And professional life…
His head was spinning.

It was as if every moment
Was a blur.
Fighting to understand
What he needed to do,
And what he had to do,
He pressed on…
In auto.

As he rushed down the crowded
Manhattan sidewalk,
All he wanted was a coffee..
And to avoid the throngs of
People pressing past him.

But quite unexpectedly,
A shower of papers,
Rained of the concrete,
Just in front of him.

He stopped,
More out of reflex
Than thinking he would
Help someone.

But in reaching down to gather the documents,
He inadvertently connected
With the life of another.

Sheaves of papers in his hands….

And in an instant, sheaves of
Paper in her hands…
Just coming into his view.

Startled, their hands
Touched… briefly,
So briefly.

It was as if his morning…

Hi eyes followed her hands,
And wrists,
And arms,
And shoulders…

To her beautiful face…
Luminous, deep blue eyes,
Speaking so much,
Of her.

She smiled.

His heart…

“Thanks,” she said.

“That’s very kind of you!”

All he heard was a melody she sang.

And like that, she had collected
Her things,
And disappeared on her way.

It was all he could do to gather himself.

What happened the rest of the day
Didn’t matter now.

His life in that minute was jolted
From the everyday
Of everything.

Just because of her…

And one…

Unintentional touch.


© 2017 W. C. Stacia, Jr.

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