Blessed Art Thou

A crimson tinted mouth smudges
comrade glasses beneath a buzz of
walking suits.  They talk only amongst
themselves, never to her.

Glittering gown masks avian limbs, a
former gazelle turned silent sidekick.
She is hopeless in her new-found role
and recites alphabetic antiphons, reaping
no harvest beside such diseased plantings,
yet brightly standing still, she will.

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