. . .sometimes one feels freer speaking to a stranger than to people one knows. Why is that?
‘Probably because a stranger sees us the way we are, not as he wishes to think we are’
― Carlos Ruiz Zafón, The Shadow of the Wind
stranger, in a strange land
plucked from the earth
roots ripped
torn
stranger, in a strange land
plucked
ripped
torn
stranger, in a strange land
you, smell
so
sweet
andy townend 
‘I can’t tell you secrets, “he says. “I don’t even know you.”
And then the guy realizes that he can tell me anything precisely because he doesn’t know me. He realizes that any stranger can be your priest. Flight by Sherman Alexie
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Perfect.
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Because there’s not all the baggage..
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The art of living sometimes requires us to check our bags and walk…
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Couldn’t agree more
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Wow! Powerful poem! So much, so few words, so many pictures in my mind.
Thanks, Andy!
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Thank you Lizl, spent too much time under the African sun perhaps, so a poem felt right…
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Ah to be seen the way we are ..
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