Crossing

As I watched her nimble feet
through winters angry steady sleet
And on her brow cold wind did beat
she had her way and crossed the street

And in her hair of modest gray
which color did reflect the day
She silenced what was hers to say
and held a world in haste at bay

Her simple dress was void of lace
and years of strain wore on her face
Within her sure but tired pace
a countless number shared her place

Wherein her half closed eyes of blue
there danced a girl whose spirit flew
As did the years and so she knew
her nimble feet would have to do

And if a queen should wear a crown
so may she cross without a frown
And brave her world, as would a clown
without a laugh and looking down

Then as she stepped up on the side
with more than just a sense of pride
Embracing all the fear we hide
I felt a stronger man inside

April 2005