Rainy Portland

I know i'm not a saint
but i might be your martyr
even if just for a moment.

stranger my eyes to you

the ambience of two hollow
tabernacles passing in
silence under heavy raindrops.

our reflections caught in
the window of a coffee shop
next to the old church
on 11th and clay

you lifted your head to
exchange the glance
that said i don't know you either.

a few more steps past the window
and then there was only
silence and cracked pavement.

by nathan martin

Comments (2)

This is wonderful. You share with your readers the inherent possibilities and relationships that pass us by everyday.
Lovely poem. Thanks for sharing Steve