Precision

I am not the only
person in this world.
Somewhere, at this precise moment,
someone else also holds
a tiny red flower.
Perhaps a florist,
or a child,
an artist,
or someone without sight
but nevertheless knows they hold a rose,
somehow just as red.
I am not alone
tying my shoe at this moment,
even more precise,
my left shoe.
The chance is strong
given that there are so many
left feet on this vast earth.
Afterall, there comes the time,
the moment,
to tie each left shoe.
I open my eyes each morning
the same time as countless others.
Slice a tomato,
smile into someone's eyes,
or turn page 44 in a magazine
within the same precise moment as others.
Chances are good. Strong.
There are billions and billions of us here.
And I am not alone.
***