Where is she tonight?
The lady I saw just yesterday.
Pushing her shopping cart
Full of large, black bags.
Everyday I saw her somewhere.
Ragged sweater in summer,
Laced boots, knit cap
Pulled down over gray hair.
Pushing, walking slow.
Where did she sleep?
Always mumbling, mouth
Making words. To who?
Was it myself I was watching?
Is this the way it was meant
To end for me? Walking,
Walking, talking for company?
Who was she talking to?
Where is she tonight?
Was she mumbling to God?
Has she finally gone home?
A stellar depiction of the hopelessness, and misfortune of th a all too many who live in the bowels of society. An excellent, write, young lady... Very Real! FjR
It may have been me cross-dressed...., mumbling...., Interesting visual picture...! ! ! Best, T.M..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
There is something classical about this moving piece written without sentimentality but with great warmth. It reminds me of Thomas' The Hunchback in the Park. And that's a compliment of the highest order. love, Allie xxxx