The Encounter

Standing alone, I sip my drink,
People around, I try to think,
No need for panic, some are friends,
But can I find them, that depends.

To find someone, I have to be,
Somewhere where someone can see me.
For otherwise I’ll pass them by,
Their face escaping from my eye.

I wait and soon someone comes near,
Though where they’re looking isn’t clear.
It seems they’re coming right at me,
I brace myself, who can it be?

Familier carriage, shape, and gait,
but still unsure, I hesitate.
Too many times I’ve felt the sting,
that using the wrong name can bring.

I shift my gaze from side to side,
In hopes they’ll be identified.
But features I should recognize,
Remain elusive from my eyes.

It’s nothing new, I have no choice,
I wait until I hear the voice.
A welcome sound – still makes me sad,
He touches me, and says “Hi dad.”