Never Knowing

I walk amongst the few who linger

where asphault turns to sidewalk,

where there stands a lonely, flowered bush.

I am assaulted with a sweet aroma

which reminds me of you

for some reason unknown to me.

And then I hear those words you always say,

“Stop and smell the flowers.”

But I don't, I never do.

And so I continue on my way,

Passing stranger after stranger,

Ever hoping, never knowing

When one will be you.