First draft of Miracle Wasted. Written under her name Edith Kokernot, probably after her divorce in 1971 when she was newly single.
We were alone, two strangers.
Suddenly, his eyes found mine and were still in their searching.
Embarrassed and afraid, I glanced away.
When I dared to look, he was gone.
Caught in my youthful dreams
I sought him in every crowd.
As the years passed, I wondered
What would have happened
Had we had talked and not been shy,
Smiled, asked a name, let a friendship grow.
Life’s miracles are for the taking,
Yet often escape us, undetected, and
We are unaware that our lives have
Changed course,
But for a fateful hesitation, or a
Chance word spoken, or another path taken,
Unknowingly toward a new destiny.