I’ve never seen her stop once
To look at a butterfly
Or a small shrub
Or the clouds in the sky singing soft ballads
of rain and storm

I know she does
But cast a look
In her most secretive of moments
the little obscurities of life
The moments we forget
She kisses on the forehead
A pensive distraction
The briefest moments that last
A millennia
Shades of black
Green brown
The misfortune of passing time
That falls to her lap
With grace
More grace
Than her head can handle
She wishes she hadn’t
Learned to mend the windows
That cracked before her