WITH GLANCES, TOUCH

I see you there, across the room.
You’re watching me, and I’m aware.
As I look up, you turn away.
I’m sure you didn’t mean to stare.

Your eyes have closely followed me,
And though we’ve never met as such,
I feel your presence very near,
And with your eyes you reach, we touch.

I sense your struggle deep inside.
The words you fight so hard to find.
Then as you leave, I know they’re trapped
As mine are, still, within my mind.

Dec. 16, 1989

© 2010 – 2011, Steven R. Drennon. All rights reserved.

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