Hand of a Stranger

I may smile at you
But it stops there
I don’t have much
To give you
Some words
Nothing much at all

There are spaces between
The cracks in this shell
If you look through
They are warm and pleading
For a hand to grasp
To pull me from this place

I don’t ask for salvation
For it is mine to find
But if you have more to offer
Than a moment
I may accept your hand
With the intent
To do you no harm

For there are things to be broken
And together
We can destroy this place
Build something
From this

But if not
Then offer, perhaps
Just a smile in return
And we will pass by
As strangers
The way it has always been


  1. We underestimate
    The value of gestures
    A nod of the head
    Or a smile
    Can avert disaster
    Can make a day
    Can bring understanding
    Without ever understanding

    A stranger
    Becomes a friend
    Becomes an ally
    Becomes a fellow human being
    Not a word spoken
    Not a thought expressed
    Only an inner realization
    That we are all the same
    That we are all lonely
    Yet never alone

    Liked by 6 people

  2. This is one of the best things I’ve read in a while, it invokes so many different thoughts out of me and I love it when writing takes me to another place. Great work! Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 2 people

      1. I wish I wish I wish all your squeezingly nautical and intensely feminine dreams to come boundingly true.
        You know – I need a muse for a book that celebrates purplish prose – care to apply?
        (but perhaps I overstep myself)

        Liked by 3 people

  3. Don’t you dare say thank you very much after this comment!

    This piece was the poetry that my deepest self would express if it had a voice. You have a talent…so much fucking talent.

    I adore this stanza:

    “There are spaces between

    The cracks in this shell

    If you look through

    They are warm and pleading

    For a hand to grasp

    To pull me from this place…”

    I felt it. I feel that profound need to be understood but not judged, to be saved while i save myself.

    Gorgeous, E.

    Don’t say thank you… don’t do it!!!

    Just say…something you truly mean or a smiley face. ๐Ÿ˜‰

    Liked by 3 people

    1. Well if I say thank you, that is something I truly mean. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t say it.

      It means a lot to me that this piece resonates with you. I get what I get from writing, and that is fine, but to see someone else be able to relate or simply understand where I am coming from is quite the gift. So thank you for that.

      Liked by 2 people

      1. Aww….E… You like me! Ha ha!(read in the voice of Nelson from the Simpsons ๐Ÿ˜‚)
        And not in the default- politeness way…don’t worry I won’t tell anyone ๐Ÿ˜‰

        You’re so welcome. I love your writing. You are a poet and a lyricist and that is a gorgeous thing to be a part of, to understand and to empathise with.

        Well, I have lots to read on your blog, so expect more non small talk style comments and heartfelt peals of resonance.


        Liked by 3 people

  4. Strangers meeting where poetry resides, neither blessed with much to offer but a voice made up of their own deeply romantic words. I would take the hand without a second thought if only to hear the words my heart craves so and breathe my own into their beating heart. Beautiful work, truly inspiring.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. I was searching for something meaningful to read and serendipitously came across this post. It reached out to hold my hand and drew me in. It is incredibly tender and raw. I had written something similar but this is outstanding .

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Wonderful, River. So often your poetry could be setting the scene for a great film. The thing is, the raw emotion, the honesty and the sense of anticipation just ooze from your verse. I always want to know what happens next. This one’s a classic. Love it. โค

    Liked by 2 people

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