Do I remember too much about The strangers I meet? There was the skinny seven year old at the Park in Detroit, who I learned liked autumn And colorful leaves, pumpkins and Halloween, Scarecrows and working in the garden. There was the Japanese lady at the Hotel breakfast in DC, calmly eating a donut, Staring off into space, gracefully lost in her own Thoughts and feelings. There was the happy man at the Veteran’s home, who talked gratefully to me About his experiences, desperate to Share his story. There was the single mother on The park bench, allowing me, a total stranger, To watch her children while she took A much needed nap. There was the black man at the Movie theater, who offered me his Extra bag of popcorn and made sure I knew When the jump scares were. Do I remember too much about The strangers I meet? I don’t think so. Appreciate humanity, Because you never know when it might be gone. Each one of these people were beautiful, In their own way, and they weren’t even Trying to be. They were just living their lives, And I was fortunate enough to be a part of them For a short time. You know why they were beautiful? Because they just were.