An Impassive Utterance of Anon
Turning the corner this early morning
Impatient squawks signal for movement.
There she was —wearing wind-breaker pants, a zip-up hoodie and a black pom-pom skully
Pushing a childless stroller, like one for a dolly, except
Cradling a plastic shopping bag,
One fragile hand-gloveless, I wondered if she lost it I could see the wrinkles of time which defined her cheeks—
Lines of fostered faith
Once filled with vitality
Now lay dormant consumed by apathy...
Or was it life itself which dwelled inside those creases?
The coldness of her breath
Suggested her attempt for warmth
When will she look up, I thought
after turning the corner this early morning;
I knew she'd live on through, being the
significance to this poem.
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