You came like rain upon dry ground,
And left before the clouds could clear.
I barely knew the voice I found,
Yet somehow breathed a little freer.
You knew no wound beneath my skin,
No history beneath my face.
You simply let the evening in,
And gave the tired world some grace.
You washed the river from my hair,
And laughed about the shoes I lost.
You never knew you lightened care,
Or what your kindness truly cost.
Some people leave without goodbye,
Yet alter something deep within.
They cross your path, then simply fly,
Unknowing what they helped begin.
Perhaps we meet them just in time,
Before they vanish down the street.
They leave no monument or sign,
Just something warm beneath our feet.
Brief Encounters
© Copyright: Староминскаяя, 2026
Свидетельство о публикации №126090900272
Свидетельство о публикации №126090900272
Рецензии