Monday, September 17, 2012
She stood apart from the others
Carving a niche of her own
The madding crowd abustle
straining a day to a moan.
She steps the sidewalks in silence
The language of thoughts in her clone
and singles out the shadows
beneath the sky reddened glow.
The molten heat of an after noon
The thoughts of a lady in her clone
Beneath the sky reddened glowing
A choice sought by one who lived
on her own.