Strands …

a warm cup of tea,

a smile,

those bread and butter sandwiches,

wolfed down,

on so many a restless night.

random faces,
reaching out,

a nod here,
an embracing hug,


common – folk,
barely hanging on,

with nothing to share,

but shared humanity …

a knowing laugh,
that cigarette divided into four quick smokes,

those open arms,

priceless gestures of understanding,

though never pity,

remain engraved into my soul,

an unknown refugee,

the economic migrant,

the prisoner of conscience,


lying dazed on that cold, cold stone …


binding us,

you and me,
him and her,
them and us all,

embroidered by a shared humaneness,

the delicate strands of what truly,

makes us,

one …