The bright lights

The engines humming

The police are coming

And she lays there

In a corner of the plaza

Where by day

Sweet men cast foul liquid

Women and children dash trash

Yet she lays there like a pig

Confined to another’s mess

It is late November

So she shivers

From the cold breeze

Blown by gods and men

Still she lays there

Her old eyes squinting

Searching the passing crowd

She knows no one

And this time no one knows her

No one knows the debater from St. Hughs

No one knows the Champion of Spelling Bee

Known by no one is the |Olympian athlete

Yet, she lays there

You look at her

And split second

Recognition creeps into her eyes

But you don’t know her now!

She closes her eyes

Thinks of tomorrow

And the sun

A new day means

New rubbish

New rubbish means

New discoveries

Tonight,

She just lays there.