In the middle of the week
there was a person without a name
Shrouded in dank sunlight
was she not
because the afternoon
hadn't turned into evening yet
The stone table surrounding
her place of study
were completely vacant
so no chatter existed
She squatted weirdly
with both knees bent toward
the clouds and an elbow
propping her chin up to keep typing
The overgrown trees
with pretty white flowers
wrestled back and forth
to calm her mind
It brought flashbacks
of chilly-charm sunsets and blankets
and that day she decided
to roll on her stomach and draw
The world was
gracious at bringing back
memories she wished could be lived
twice and then twice over again
The person without a name had
become a lover at peace
