Ode to strangers

I miss the small indescribable moments I used to share with strangers. 
The warm smile from an elderly woman walking down the street,
The businessman opening the door for me as his leather shoes stepped through to the other side, the rich smell of coffee engulfing all of my uncovered senses as I walked in.
The little kid looking up at me with all the earnestness in the world, as he handed me the hat I had dropped on the ground.
The snippets of conversations I used to hear at restaurants, the feeling of amusement as I walked through a busy New York City street,
Looking around at all the strangers in the middle of living their lives, just as I was in the middle of living mine;
All aware of each others presence, yet completely in our own worlds.
There's something I find so beautiful about the space around me being engulfed by a moving crowd of strangers.
To all the strangers everywhere, although we've never met, I think I miss you most of all.