I see her walking every day,
In the morning, always swiftly on her way.
Where she’s heading, I haven’t a clue.
She looks a little crazy,
Striding at such a furious pace.
Her-longBrown hair blowing wildly,swirling around her weathered face.
Her racing steps seem to be with purpose though.
Where this daily journey finally takes her, this I just don’t know.
I’m not really sure, why it is
I even care.
Maybe she’s just walking ,
No real destination.
Her feet just keep on going
And never lead her anywhere.
I truly hope that this is not true.
Oh, walking lady of the morning,
I hope whenever your journey meets it’s end.
You’re warm and smiling,
Sipping coffee with a friend.