a girl with the sun of her youth
at her back
and the shadow of her womanhood
before her on the stones
is approaching with a delicate
clip clop clack
her sandals full of toes
that i suppose are headed home
it's early in the evening
and up and down the river
people begin to gather
pearls of laughter
on a strand
i thought solitude would save me
it was pious
it was
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