The sign on the box read
it contained a few dollars and loose change
She sat on a small stool,
behind a cello twice her size.
Her eyes closed and her back,
only her shoulders swayed
as she played,
fingers holding the bow in a vice grip.
She had sapphire hair, bone china skin and a
conservative black dress, which bared her arms:
twin kaleidoscope sleeves
The music drifted above us,
her appearance stayed with me, dreamlike.