Your image, my friend, has haunted me all day. Even without looking I could see you turning and looking at me again. A late scrich tonight, I thought perhaps none would be written, as I could not decipher the whisper or your image.  I know you are a predator. I have seen you at work. But when you turned and met my eyes it was more poetic than a predator’s presence. I know we spoke but I do not know what was said. We stood together without agenda. We spoke in silence. Our eyes neither filtered nor pretended. The moment was real. And so I will leave this scrich as it is. The simple statement that what was said is not diminished because I don’t understand. That we spoke soul to soul is enough.