She knows sacrifice so well,
They exchange secrets.

Her carriage arrives on the bell,
A rusty operator sings.

Covering her nose from the mechanical smell,
Her fingers are dressed in weathered rings.

She looks up at me, and I am enlightened,
Green eyes flourish in the Autumn sun,

And although she has alighted,
We are in transit, forever walking.

Closely it will follow,
A glance or whisper, forever stalking.

We know promises are hollow,
So, let our shadows do the talking.

“Napitji, Napitji,”
“And let us be free.”