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First Impression

She was weeping-not on a beach or
Mountainside or some such inspirational
Place, but on the sidewalk, walking
During the day.  At least, that's where he
Found her; God knows where else she'd cried.

So unashamed, her public tears.  He
Wanted to be Kleenex in her hand, but
Settled for stopping, turning, catching
Up, and brushing her shoulder.  She jumped,
Not expecting human contact, taken aback.

"I know I don't know you."  How awkward.
"Want a Kleenex?"  Shrug.  Nod.  "You
In a hurry?"  Shrug.  Shake.  "Want to
Sit a few?"  Shrug.  OK.  "I won't
Leave you crying on the street.

"Why not?"
"Because someone else did."

--Barbara E. Prater, 1998