at a stop sign
on the way to work
somebody I don’t know
but who looks rather like me
walks across the street
in front of my truck
he is my age
he wears work pants
a thick jacket
keeps his beard not too long
but would maybe look
too young without it as I do
he carries a to go cup of coffee
and gives me a nod of his head
and I nod back and wonder
as I start to drive again
about all the parallel lives
which surround me
how we are all shooting straight
into the future side by side
but separate
even if our journeys
take nearly the same path
so many lives lived in unison
only a few intersect
how lucky we are
when they momentarily do
whether for some great love
or the slightest acknowledgement
that we do not exist alone