It is not intentional, a separation of worlds.
I am standing, waiting for when I
have to lend a helping hand. The party
has come and gone, and I am eager to be on my way.

There is a truck backing into the lot,
a U-Haul with two workers.
One is beside the truck coaxing the driver along.

There is a strange magnetism between his life and mine,
that brought him and me to the same place.
Though he never sees me,
I feel responsible to remember his face.

A dimension lapses between us,
though time and space remain the same.
Our entirely separate lives happen to cross,
but no one expects a reunion in the future.