I know i'm not a saint
but i might be your martyr
even if just for a moment.

stranger my eyes to you

the ambience of two hollow
tabernacles passing in
silence under heavy raindrops.

our reflections caught in
the window of a coffee shop
next to the old church
on 11th and clay

you lifted your head to
exchange the glance
that said i don't know you either.

a few more steps past the window
and then there was only
silence and cracked pavement.

nathan martin

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/rainy-portland/