Damaged Goods

Downtown on a pedestrian path,
6:30 a.m. Seen from afar,
a traveler, one might surmise.
Someone pulling a wobbly
suitcase on wheels, shoulder bag
heavy across her chest.
A student perhaps, rushing for
an airport shuttle or bus.
But no, despite her lack of years,
bowed under their weight,
what she knows is self-taught.
A life where a fortune is
merely the jingle of loose change.
Her home a suitcase with
a broken zipper, luggage serving
as the only jacket owned.
Damaged goods, guarded eyes
reveal upon getting closer.
Downcast, curtained, the hurt
contained within allows
no one to carelessly trespass.
In passing, your concern
is of no assistance to her at all.

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