Imagery
You saw Across the room, I was one of the guests; The others faded and we stood Alone.
Henrietta Clarke
SourceLicence:Public domain (US, unrenewed)
You saw Across the room, I was one of the guests; The others faded and we stood Alone.
A single moment fills these five short lines: two people notice each other across a crowded room. The speaker is just "one of the guests," nothing special, and the first line, "You saw," suggests that being seen is what changes everything. Someone looked, and the speaker felt it.
What follows is the heart of the poem. The other people "faded," as if the room had turned into a photograph losing its color, until only the two of them were left. The word "Alone" sits by itself on the final line, and that isolation is oddly tender rather than lonely. In a room full of people, they've become the only two who matter.
The mood is hushed and slightly dreamlike, with a flutter of nervous excitement underneath. The short, broken lines mimic a held breath. The title, "Imagery," hints that this may be a picture the speaker keeps replaying in memory, the way we hold onto a moment that felt like it stopped time.