The Unknown

April 7, 2011
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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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