Familiar faces

I have seen, hundreds of miles from home, familiar faces.

I rarely have the courage to speak to them or ask questions.

I would rather let them pass by

and any happy meetings be missed.

It leaves me to wonder,

in the echo of those memories,

Was it them I saw on that distant street?

What is their story? Where are they going? Where have they been?

Silence.

Memories are a dark room.