My life as a poet...

"The Stranger On The Dock"
By Cathy Beasley

The wind blows through my hair
I breath in and slowly exhale
My fingers trace the rim of my now empty glass
I feel fulfilled in a way, and yet am missing something dear.

I take notice to the gentleman staring at me from afar,
Does he know something about me, or know me?
I seem to know him but only by spirit.
Is he too traveling to find that something in life?

The stranger gets up and walks towards me.
My heart begins to leap as he now stands near.
He now leans over and whispers softly in my direction,
“I know what you did.”