We met one morning, you and I.
You stood stock-still and watched me
with fear, I think.
Curious, I stood-stock still
so as not to scare you away.

Had you been older
(and less enchanting),
our encounter might have gone
quite differently.

If you felt cornered
you’d bare your teeth,
and hiss a warning
for me to stay away.

You may have tried the ploy
of playing possum,
flat on your side, stiff and unmoving,
eyes closed in mock death.

I might have poked you with a stick,
testing your resolve to continue
this risky gambit.
It would be a long stick and a soft poke,
lest you chose to resurrect.

But as it was, we simply met,
assessed our respective threats,
and finding none, we parted ways.

Should we meet again,
I’ll hold no kind sentiment.
You will sense no familiarity.

Despite our chance encounter,
your innocence and my curiosity,
we are not – and never shall be –
kindred souls.

Discover Challenge: Chance Encounter