she is the vagabond

who wanders with the winds

forever adrift 

a prisoner to her sins

 

by dawn she appears

nextdoor, or nearby 

she’ll pay you no mind

nor lift you an eye

 

now, offer her aid

let her stay for a while

she’ll throw you a laugh

or feign you a smile 

 

but soon as you stop

and question her ways

her grin disappears

her eyes fill with rage 

 

she’ll snarl and scream

she’ll fight if she must

when all’s said and done

she’ll be gone by dusk

 

and by morrow morn

she’ll find someplace new

for she loves not a soul

that much remains true