Everyday she stands there
completely wrapped in swathes of black cloth
leaving open only a small window
to glimpse at the outside world
but she stopped looking up
a long time ago.

She spends her time
remembering the past
before she became a mother
before she became a beggar
like viewing an old black and white movie
with characters wearing too much make up.

As she heard the mechanical sound
of what seems to be a camera shutter
the weathered skin of her clumsy fingers
felt the contact of a soft worn money bill.
While caressing it she could feel its history
thinking about all the hands
that carried the same gesture.

Although the number on this dirty paper
should have been enoug to curve
her hidden mouth
she was getting cold
and wanted to sleep again.