of a Stranger.
poised on a rustic bench
the park ahead swam
in her eyes,
as she grinned gregariously.
passerby looked onwards,
passing the woman -
oblivious to her gentle eyes.
the sun rose and fell in the sky,
and she sat, blinkless:
a blank figure in the horizon.
A hat adorned the head
of a Stranger.
Underneath it a secret keep
of wistfulness and wiseness
hidden from an age-old
negligence.
When dark blue crept up
behind her,
the Hat seemed to fade away.
night owls flew past her,
but not without a simple glance,
or a kind quip of acknowledgement.
A tiny boy, of half her height
ran with innocent ease
tripping over her feet.
guilt flooded over him,
as he pleaded and wept.
And then, he recognized her
as the lady with the Hat.
A gentle query escaped his lips,
when he asked her where it went.
And then, she grinned gregariously
spilling the secret she had kept,
"This head has never seen
a hat,
of course,
nobody noticed that."