We met upon a crowded street one day,
And for a fleeting space his glance held mine;
But we were strangers; there was nought to say,
So each passed on without a spoken sign.
His eyes were deep and questioning, yet kind,
But were the eyes of one whose will was strong -
Of one who had a keen and eager mind,
And made of life a brave and buoyant song.
Strange, how this casual meeting stays with me,
When things of far more magnitude have fled,
And yet the thought of it will always be
Something to cherish, though no words were said.
MARGARET E. BRUNER
