A Passing Meal

A meal here. A cup of coffee there.
A simple meeting turned conversation.
Often for unexpected hours.

You life has been full of them.
Encounters. Friends in passing,
the few hours or days spent in their company

resonating like a bell in a church tower.
Somehow still ringing long after you have parted,
An echo without end. Something you miss

for years afterward. Something you rejoice in
for those same year. Souls that live inside you,
as souls do – forever.

About this poem

I am astonished sometimes how many people I have run into in my life of travels whose spirits continue to fill me with joy. I am blessed.

I have a weakness for long dinners with friends.

From those things, this poem.

The photograph was taken at Olana – the home of Hudson River painter William Church.

Tom