Seperate Paths

Shades of brown mix in hazel eyes,

Softly lifting as her cheek turns,

Gazing away just in time…

To avoid my glance, my return expression;

What for has fate dealt such a hand?

Together part, in so many places,

Upon so many planes,

Catching only a glimpse, and speaking not a word,

Stealing a moment, a moment I’m glad to have taken;

I’ve hear her song,

And hung my neck from each note,

Shared the stage, a walkway, a table, a shard of time,

Yet we fall into silence;

I wonder if she wonders as well,

And may wonder if I wonder,

Yet we remain on our separate paths,

Each seemingly set on the same destination…

A likeness shared?

Shyness in need of breaching?

A contempt breeding; growing?

Perhaps the paths are half of one another,

Shaping the curve behind the shade tree,

The place we will realize such;

Everywhere, together separately,

Watching through the brush from our own narrow paths,

Neither knowing,

Neither knowing of the other’s knowing…

Thus, we walk our similar paths,

Parallel in direction,

Minds aligned in curiosity,

But still, who is to speak?

That is, if words are to be spoken…

Will the silence break crisply or fall shattered beneath feet bare?

Author's Notes/Comments: 

I wrote this about a girl who I kept running into in various places/situations over the summer semester. We never really had a conversation, though we did talk a few times briefly. I just found it interesting how often it seemed that we were on the same wavelength or something...

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Jere''s picture

This poem is utterly awesome; although, I would suggest that, in the last line, you reverse the last two words' order from "feet bare" to "bare feet." The power of the line, and the conclusive impact it gives to the poem, will actually be heightened by this alteration. Otherwise, this poem is superb; it is one I want to bookmark so that I can read it more than once.