That Day

I wasn’t meant to meet you there,
Just smoke in the air and those tall chairs.
A barbecue I attended on a whim,
A laugh, a glance, a game to win.
You weren’t part of the plan at all,
Just someone I noticed amidst them all.
And somehow—maybe just the sun—
I found the nerve to talk to someone.
I might have seemed a bit held back,
Not cold, just not sure how to act.
I wish I said, “I’m just like this—
A little shy, a little hit or miss.”
You may have smiled, or maybe not,
I’m still replaying what I forgot.
But something small began that day—
A spark that didn’t know what to say.
Not love, not something deep or grand,
Just something soft I didn’t plan.
The kind of thing you almost miss—
A feeling dressed up like a wish.
And maybe nothing comes to be,
No epic tale, no history.
But still, it lingers—quiet, thin—
Like a page that waits
for someone
to finally grab that pen.