Across the weary way
sits a girl
As imaginary as any other thing
sitting, viewing, reading
Her hat is perched on top of her head
and her sunglasses reflect the light
Move in closer
Her head is tilted, her hands are placed carefully and she blocks something
The tree that swings above her does not distract her
Even though, it seems that her ears twitch
and her body flinches
to every passerby and every sound that swooshes through
What is she hiding?
You wait patiently to know what it is
Looking over again
The sun covers half of her body and the other half covered by shade
She must be hiding something
the bell dings at 3 as others race by her she still does not move
Until it is time for her
She finally turns around
places the book down
picks up her bag
Moves her hand and grabs for something
But what?
Then you see it move
What you thought was a leg of a bench
Lies a cane.
Return to the front page of: Volume 1, Number 1. April, 2012