The woman with her hands on the girl’s shoulders,
Marches her down the creases between cars;
She quivers and complies, with a sign hung around her neck,
Which few read because they avert their eyes
to stifle whatever emotion might arise;
The woman’s features are stoic—brow straight,
As she holds the cup for collection,
Hoping for relief,
In either direction.
Eddie Matthews is a senior writing major. He likes storytelling and biking.