Ridgewood Sun

The busy sunlight's sneaking through the crowded shoulders of the street
Everybody's hurrying, someplace to go, someone to meet
Do you ever stop to think about what it is that they see
I guess that remains forevermore a mystery

While I'm content just sitting here in the sun
I turn my gaze and see I'm not the only one
A car zips by and I notice him there on the bench
And in his hand a memory he seems to clench

He notices me looking and I sharply turn away my head
I hope he doesn't notice that I turned a pale shade of red
But to my surprise, he makes his way across to me
Says "does this belong to you?" and hands me that memory

I say, "I don't think it does" as I turn it over in my head
He says, "isn't that a shame; I think the owner might be dead"
"So, what do we do now?" I ask, and look him in the eyes
"We live it out," he answers me to my surprise

By now, the sun has set and the streetlamps have begun to glow
And the memory grows but somehow no one else would know
For it bursts into a million fireflies
And I see a smile form in the stranger's eyes

But as he walks away, I realized I never asked his name
Though I know now that it was all a part of this whole game
And I know that we will likely never meet upon these streets again
The memory's been set free and will, for all, remain