A girl sat reading
The Lives of the Saints. Her walk-
ing stick leaned at rest.
The seat next to her
was empty. The place was packed.
January sun
streamed in the windows.
Sometimes noisy rooms go qui-
et, like then, like now.
A girl sat reading
The Lives of the Saints. Her walk-
ing stick leaned at rest.
The seat next to her
was empty. The place was packed.
January sun
streamed in the windows.
Sometimes noisy rooms go qui-
et, like then, like now.