"crossing paths..."

their paths cross
on the cobbled walk
just outside my office window
and across the
campus
green

his head is down in
contemplation of a theorum,
a recipe,
a law of nature,
the latest story on NPR
still echoing beyond the
"driveway moment"
from his morning
commute
around, and
beyond, the
river's
bend

she is curled in on
herself,
arms crossed,
chin down against the cool dampness
of a late spring day...

until she sees him in her path
and the
sun comes out
in her face...

but he does not
notice..

they do not speak...

their eyes never meet...

he is not aware that she is
hopeful,  and so he
walks on,
beyond
her shy gaze

he does not see her
slow her pace
as their footsteps share
an echo

he will not feel longing
as she looks back
over her shoulder,
hoping he will too...

he thinks he is alone
in his reverie,
solitary
in this space of silence
on a damp gray morning
into
night

but she has
joined him
if only for a moment...

and in the space of
that dawning
the clouds have parted
and he has walked
with sunlight on
his back

his life has been
touched...ever so
gently

by the whisper of
her notice,

warmed,
by the love
in
her
eyes...