in the opposite direction to everyone else
going about the business of the day
meeting no one
everyone has fear etched upon their faces
and wisps of grey fog in their mouths
intent on not meeting someone’s eye
hoping to be in on time
like children behind their desks
when the master walks in.
I spied her
on the other
side of the path
fastening on to a twig
churning over and over
the same repeating thought
fanning the vast endless void
created from her own tiny point
trying to make new connections land.
A fly fisherman casting a gossamer thread
scheming the boulder with a torrent either side
not letting anyone know her methodical curdling.