Brief Encounter
By John Herlihy

We met but once,
A brief encounter that weighs but an ounce.
The little old women gave the appearance of being sly,
Not for a second could one take her for shy.
No one could tell you the true reason why;
I later found out that, as I suspected, she was Thai.
She must have been eighty if she was a day;
The wisdom of her life could be heard in what she had to say.

She greeted me warming as if she were my mentor;
She was an efficient receptionist at the Ayurveda Center.
Howdy, she said unexpectedly and with a mischievous wink;
Howdy, I answered in reply, with no time to sufficiently think.
She talked on and on about her trip to the US many years ago,
When she heard I grew up in Boston equally many years ago.
She made much of her Greyhound bus trip from New York City;
For her diminutive size, she was a grand dame, not a tired old bitty.

What struck me amid the friendly chatter was the unusual face;
A face she had earned that singled her out among the human race.
The ravages of time and the years created a map of wrinkled skin,
That framed her unique personality that was summed up in her grin.
Her eyes, like blue-grey marbles, shone out from her noble head;
Every gesture she made and word she spoke seemed highly bred.
It was a face that never gave up, with good will still left over to spare;
It was the face of a noble old women that was beyond compare.

The face of a young girl reached out from the wrinkled face of old time;
There are still a few people out there who reflect somehow the Divine.