Recall once more the beams of light
Turned upside down and right again
On your cornea. Or did you meet it?
My gaze I mean. I feel the drain
Of myself into your eyes.
'Tis fleeting, sure, but God-ordained.
If you have a moment, friend,
Spare the time for one more face
You hardly know, but which your brain
Has stored away. Despite the pace
Of sunset, rise, there's always time.
I would you heed the faintest trace
Of recollection. Perhaps I
Made little impact on your heart.
But think of me just once, small one.
I remember you. I start,
And goosebumps rush from fingertips
To shoulders. You have taken part
In the pictorial sum of life,
In the so-important thread
Of life, entwined in my own for
Mere minutes. Oh, but as you said,
I took to heart the pulse and light.
Me? I might as well be dead
If you don't recall my face
As I do yours. The earnest sounds?
Hold them, at least, should your eyes fail.
My words heal self-inflicted wounds.
And you-- the patterns of the light
Refracted in my eye rebounds
To my brain in swiftest joy.
I wanted only that you see
The color of my own, to hear
The words I formed so fleetingly,
And if one sole stranger you remember
Stop a moment, think of me.
postscript
Poem for the stranger. I never knew you.