We meet many in the short and long
Journeys of life.
Some for just a glimpse, sharing the ride
Maybe a smile or a nod.
Some for longer along with the cuppa
Or in the aisle of the library.
A chance remark about a book
Or the memory of a common friend.
Some come to open the locked doors
Of the heart and the soul
Like a waft of fragrance from child hood
Which exists more in the memory than in realty.
All the imprints, in the sands of time
Some dragging through, and some flying
Some are steady with a step matching
The pace of life, here and so long.