in distress

in her turmoil,
distress
mud up to her knees.
the wet
fringes of a heavy
dress.
boots
and leggings, the pulled
tight hat.
against the wind,
running short
of time,
age having caught up
to her,
trouble up
to her neck.
is there a gentleman
to get her
across the street.
someone to rescue
her.
or has she been waiting
all week,
all life
for that helping
hand,
her charm
inviting the blind,
the rich, the boldly
meek.