It is the same time as yesterday
appearing out of the shadows
into the midday sun. Wearing
the essence of damp wool, and
too many layers for a warm day.
Her only burden,
a tattered bag whose contents
are her treasures.
Bruised shoes shuffle along the pavement.
No need to hurry. She stops briefly
to request from harried worker bees
with averted eyes.
A shrug confirms her indifference
and she crosses to the park,
ambling along to a secluded bench
where strangers eat from paper bags.
Patiently she waits
as the day passes to retrieve
their crumbled food sacks.
Her vigilance reaps a feast to
share with no one,
but soon they come to surround her
like a train on a wedding dress.
Her only friends have arrived.
She feels loved and needed,
but they are not faithful.
Though she shares,
fat birds take flight
not even looking back.
Leaving her to stand alone.
Resilient, she throws back her head
with hollow laugher
echoing through the trees.
And when it begins to rain,
she lets it bathe her face
before she vanishes into the shadows.
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