Our minds wistfully feasting on the past.

Alone on a crowded street, we stood.

Minds downcast and eyes clouded.

But between a dozen strange and empty faces my eyes found yours.

A light sparked from your skin and ignited my own.

Aquatinted we were at an awkward stage.

But I embraced you as one starved of human connection.

And you gave yourself wholly to the fire now kindled within our hearts.

Michael is a husband, father, writer, poet, and aspiring author. He finds time to scribble down his thoughts in the dead of night, between ghosts and night owls. If you’d like to read more of his poetry follow the link here. Or to visit his full blog, ‘The Ink Owl’ click here.