Sweet stranger hold my hand.
Tell me of those summer nights you lit the moon aglow with your dance.
Sing me the songs that once leaped off your tongue
and into the ears of loves.
Guide my hands to the place
where wrinkles now replace freckles,
let me rejoice with you that you’ve made it this far.
Let me hold your tamed hair and trace the shape of frizzy curls that once lined your eager face.
Sweet stranger there is so much time left
before we meet or never will
and I cannot wait to see who we are or never were.
Sweet stranger I will try my best to hold on so that you someday may become a friend.