He doesn’t even know me,
Yet he stares.
Not from up close, but afar –
A window stands between us,
And he uses it as protection,
Perhaps in fear that I may bite.
Slightly frightened, but fascinated;
The way my hair wasn’t one colour but two,
The way I talked and walked and smiled.
Through the window,
Watched my every move.
As I advanced to where he was,
Adopting the same pose he stood in –
My hands around my eyes to shield it from the light,
Peering into the other side at a peculiarity that was new to my eyes.
And for a second we stood there and looked at each other from opposite sides,
Before he shyly turned away,
Smiling his little smile.
He couldn’t have been more than 4,
5 at most.
His blue cap was pulled securely over his ears,
Blue jacket zipped up to keep him warm,
Safe from the cold.
Perhaps I left him wondering why his attire that keeps him safe from the cold, which dominates his homeland, couldn’t keep him safe from the blonde quirk he had just encountered for a brief while?