I saw but a glimpse of you
in the milling crowd
yet I cannot erase
you from my memory …
the face of my dreams!

Obsessed
you haunt me night and day.
Where do I begin my search?
I have no name.
I have no reference.
It’s hopeless!
With time the
intensity of my longing
wears thin!

Years later … you surface again
an acclaimed writer
with a best-selling book
about a face of a stranger
in the crowd.

Restless,
I’m back to square one,
tied up in knots …
Could that face have been mine?