He wore black suspenders
and was as tall as a skyscraper.
A dark green shirt and quirky socks.
I saw nature in his posture.
His eyes stung me at a first glance.
I know I’m young but my soul is old. His hands are magic on that guitar. His voice pierced.
Glances were exchanged and before the night fell I twirled out the door.
A smile and wave is what he’ll have as a memory of me,
just a passing girl in his world of faces.