Sometimes she appeared on busy streets where crazy shoppers boxed
Themselves around market stalls and walls of windows. They never caught the
Brief reflection of the girl in white who cried alone and clutched her
Amulet and sometimes stretched a hand but found no takers. No, not even as
A gift. How sad…. Other times she’d manifest on lonely bridges where
Evening skies would turn the river gold, and lovers strolled and swapped
Their secrets. Eyes locked on each other. They never saw her swinging legs
Flash lilac in the lamplight -beacons for a passing ship. Nothing stopped
As silently she shook her head and slipped into the water….
