She sits In silence Waiting for her day Hands folded neatly In her lap Staring Into the distance Looking for life? Looking for hope?
She sits On an old wooden bench In an eerie quiet In a vacuum of time
Spine arched In silent surrender Feet firmly planted On the ground of disappointment
Bare feet Dry, cracked heels Resting on soft, dark-brown earth Muddying the hem Of a long, flowing skirt
She sits And looks And deliberates
The life to which She has resigned
Sighs Slowly rises Reenters the monotone
Leaving space For another soul To come And sit And contemplate