So I was not expecting this tonight. It seemed a bit mundane the reading. And then I got up in front of the modest crowd and let my words flow. They applauded. Others recited and read. And then the show was over and I thought I would just go have some drinks afterwards with my friends. A man came up to me. Someone I may have passed on the street who might have smiled. He shook my hand and told me he liked my poem. It had really moved him and could he have a copy. I paused. I hestitated. I gave him my information and the sites I was on. But...
It seemed wrong to leave it there. So I gave him the copy of the poem, but I signed it first. And this completely seemingly sane person hugged me and thanked me. He began to tear as he said it meant so much to him. I told him I was glad. And then he left...and nothing about it even seems odd to me now. Actually it seems to be one of the reasons that I write: to be able to speak to a stranger and move them in two stanzas. To the be able to remember that chance encounter.
