The Smile

by: Vasanta Athilat   

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An aura unfolds


as she gives away smiles
some naive and some cherubic
intense during the morning commute
it makes a show worth watching
And I watch..
She does not tally her smiles
but opens her heart
and lets deep rooted sorrows spill out
all over the factual world
staining its laminate floor
greasing the world's painted door
A beaten path
a trembling stride or two
her transparent innocense and woes
bleed by the masses
quid pro quo,
sorrow for a smile
pitching poverty for pennies
She holds on
as lights go out
and curtains draw
rippling emotions surge past
and she still smiles..
as alms and coins compile,
I gather
fragments of a smile from within
And toss it in to her empty heart