While
on my morning walk
But
rarely give a second glance;
There
is no cause to gawk.
She’s
sitting on the bus stop bench
Protected
from the rain
With
coffee or a snack at hand,
Her
clothing neat and plain.
Today
she read the paper,
Which
I do each day as well,
Yet
she has never noticed me,
As
far as I can tell.
You
may wonder why this ordinary
Person’s
in my poem.
Here’s
the answer – she intrigues me
For
the bus stop is her home.
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