Scanning above the heads of the crowd, looking
Forward, ahead, never erring to glance at the feet
And risk a stumble or fall. Crowns of brown and
Black and blond sprigs of grass on moving soil.
Stepping lightly from time to time, watching close
For another ones eyes to meet, rare though possible,
And when they lock it is an intensity, one of knowledge
That communicates, divines, sees inward, respects.
A downward glance can bring it on, and lift the
Other up to reflect the shine, and give so complete
A pictures, as though the minds close around one
Another and share the common bond.
Meeting eyes of equal height, a rare and priceless
Privilege indeed. One savored, placed in memory,
And learned from. The ultimate respect in knowing,
The others downward glance provided you the lift.
Ralph Peck
Photograph by Hayley Westwood
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