The stranger took my hand <br />and holding it tightly within his own - <br />(such a grotesque specimen of mortality) - <br />bent over as best he could <br />brushing lips of rubber against prickling skin <br />then smiled and let me go <br />only to leave me with the vagary of haunted eyes <br />and the blessing of a lonely soul <br /> <br />King's Lynn, Norfolk - June 1995<br /><br />Penny Hemans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-stranger-14/
