she sits
in the sun. the park is empty.
the trees
bare.
scattered shots of grey
pigeons
wander about
on clawed feet.
she sits and wonders which
way to go.
what words to say,
how to end it all,
or stay.
she sits in the sun,
the sun
upon her face.
she knows the answers, she
knows
what must be done,
but doesn't.
maybe another season,
on another day.
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