After work, my feet hurt. The routine flies by in a start.

Sitting on a bench beside a quiet stranger, who minds his business, I feel no danger.

No need for a greeting, no words left to trace, just peaceful reflection upon his calm face.

The tree gives us shelter and relief from the swelter.

Without even speaking, a silent bond taking, and a shared understanding softly awaking.

The annoyance disappears when a whisper draws near, erasing every lingering fear.

Wanderers of the common space, far away from the rat race.