Isn’t it strange
how often you’re surrounded
by strangers?
The car you’re following behind
as your driving down the interstate–
Who is inside, what are they talking about?
Are they singing to songs on the radio?
Are they arguing
about something one of them said?
Something one of them did?
Or maybe didn’t do?
Where are they going?
Why are they going there?
I think about these people every day.
I wonder about their lives,
about their plans, their destinations.
I wonder if any of them
ever wonder the same
about me.

31 thoughts on “Strangers

      1. I’m that one person that would be ok being the last person on the planet, I could then go through every house and look at everyone’s stuff. I don’t want it, just want to see what everyone has.


  1. I think I just take those people for granted. But I spend more time wondering about the people I meet through blogs. Like how old they are, what town they live in, what their family is like, what do they believe in. A lot of that comes through their posts, but some of the things people think are too ordinary and commonplace to blog about are just the things that put light and shade into our mutual understanding.


  2. I think the same things about others all the time. I have since I was a child, and there are no signs of that slowing any time soon…


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