The Flâneur by Joan Currie

In the bustling streets, he roams alone,
In sartorial style all his own.
With aimless steps, he wanders free,
Observing life’s grand tapestry.

He watches lovers hand in hand,
Yet, intimacy he can’t understand.
For behind closed doors, secrets lie,
Hidden from his wandering eye.

He sees the tears, hears goodbyes,
But never truly feels the ties.
To him, the boulevard’s his stage,
Where life unfolds page by page.

Yet, deep within, a longing stirs,
For connection that only he infers.
But in his solitude, he finds solace sweet,
As a flâneur on the city’s street.

I think intimacy is one of the greatest gifts one person can give to another.