She was there I saw her, standing near the street corner lonely and alone, Patiently waiting for a bus while a breeze from the bay caressed her flowing dress.
She bore the look of time passage perhaps she was thinking of it slipping through her fingers.
Fixated she turned a gold ring on her finger for the last time, as her soul acted upon her solute in a gradual dissolution of her form.
Stopped at a red light I turned to look again, a trolley bell rang, she was gone.
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