From Stepping Stones To Dance Poem by Kaylami Yarne

I met a chap
Who took a nap
Against me as we rode

The second train,
As roads will drain
Our will to bear the load.

I did not know him.
Chances were slim
That our paths should cross

For his spine
Was shaped like mine,
A vine gnarled with loss.

His eyes were shut;
That did not cut
From me this sudden trance

Because his feet,
Likewise, were beat
From stepping stones to dance.

And how his hands drew
Déjà vu
From my own distant past

The nails coarse
With pained remorse;
The lifeline treads were vast.

Soon he stood,
His legs like wood
From dreaming he could fly

He shook his head,
Laughed and said:
'To greet, or bid goodbye! '