in my mind i can see them, the hundreds
forming lines down narrow streets
on their slow and steady path through thick gatherings of buildings
to an old, old church.
this day is like any other
the sun above the clouds a bit higher
girls in pink tights and bright red skirts
blue jackets blue doors and the quiet
drink my tea from a distant box and sit and sort the clothes
it's raining in the dresses i never wore and i won't wash them.