She...stands like a reflection in still waters. 

Distant. Solemn. 

Medusa's hair, floating like carefree wavelets, 

Engulfs all yesterdays and tomorrows

She...stares, who knows where

Those empty sockets bereft of dreams

Absorb sun rays of infant delight like

Frivolous promises of unshaken faith

She... speaks not a word

For, what is speech 

But random spewing of unnecessary sounds

Sans meaning, sans occasion

She...stands there quietly

Looking on and on, 

Till the rough grey stones - all melt away

To merge with a fluorescent ball on a dusty footpath