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The Unknown
April 7, 2011
Like a city bus,
She wanders the town;
From place to place,
On the same, steady ground.
With each day that comes,
She never changes her route;
Like the hands of a clock,
The same pattern, she loops.
Every day, wearing the same
Wind-breaker jacket,
And same the worn knapsack
That she wears on her back.
Don’t know where she comes from,
Nor where she heads to;
Like the birds in the sky,
By my face, she just flew.
Knowing that there’s more to her,
My wonder is large,
But from her, an explanation
Is too great a charge.
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