It’s National Poetry Day, and as I look forward to an autumnal walk this weekend, I am also looking to coming across friendly folk offering smiles and hellos as we pass.
Smiling at Strangers
Like leaves that have fallen from the same bough
That meet in clustered embraces about the root
Guided by wind and season, we are the same.
Sunlight and streams beckon us to visit and stroll
Alongside, beyond and beneath, we meet.
Here among the grass of meadow and swaying bough
Our paths cross for the first and last of times.
Sudden moments of unexpected union
Seconds to share a spirit of wonder
All whilst out for a little wander.
Smiling at strangers, a fleeting greeting
Amongst ramblers, walkers, uncounted unknown friends
A sign we know why each is here.
Even though we do not know from whence each has come or go
To know that to be out and about under sun or star
When compared to indoors, is better by far.
The blog of author Luke Phillips 