POETRY

A Stranger’s Face

I don’t know who you are,
you exist as a file on my computer
and bits of memory in my mind.
 
Mexican minstrel,
a story of life to be sure,
a stranger’s face, 

 soul’s windows
unabashedly wide open.
 
Another place,
Tlaquepaque Mexico,
another time,
snapshot moment really.

Me?
a stranger in his reality,
another gringo,
from another world.
 
Friendly faces
acknowledgement unspoken,
acceptance agreed,
I took this photo,
a stranger’s face.

 

Copyright © Henri Ferguson 2012 All rights reserved
 
Author Notes
Michelle and I were on a month long trip in Mexico studying Spanish and spent a few days in Tlaquepaque, a regional hub for artisans of every description. This fellow was a guitar player in a small street ensemble which we listened to for a while. I was struck by this man’s face and felt I was peering into another’s soul. Without dialogue he agreed to let me take his picture, I left him a generous tip and I got this; a stranger’s face.



By | 2012-11-27T07:49:00+00:00 November 27th, 2012|0 Comments

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