Waiting For The Bus

I saw her waiting for the bus

A ways past any station;

I wondered who she was, or what

Might be her destination


The heart upon her shirt said “love”;

Her eyes bespoke despair —

I hope, wherever she was bound,

She’s safely gotten there


And that the child she seemed to bear

Grows to be hale, and strong;

For love can be a fleeting thing,

Or last a whole life long

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