I don’t know her name,
don’t know where she is now,
don’t even know if she is still alive..
But her face is still fresh
in my childhood memories.
She was the one who lived across the street
with her grandmother
in that weather-stripped apartment,
always smiling as she stood at the porch.
We have never exchanged words,
only hand-waves through the air.
She was the mute girl to whom I threw a piece of candy,
which sweetness still warms my heart
after these thirty odd years.
I can still see her blooming smile…