Lena, A Homeless Lady

I knew her one time, met her on the street outside our library

Her black braids entangled, an greying

Her scent of peppermint and wood reeked loudly

Her voice even stronger against the strong bearded wind.

She carries  broken back pack, and the little that she carries

Is  mystery,but her name we know.

Lena, she said with a smile.

And while I walk away she still has that smile

to carry her a long sleepless mile.

This poem is about: 
My community
Guide that inspired this poem: 

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