she weaves through the crush of the crowd 

small, weak, and desperate 

just one of the thousands who want a piece

of this miracle-worker 

she doesn’t dare hope for a word, 

a look, or a touch of his hand, 

who is she to take up

even a few seconds of time 

with a healer the whole city

is crying out for? 

as the crowd gets thicker and more frenzied

she kneels down and crawls

through feet 

kicking dirt in her face 

she sees the muddy hem of his cloak

and lunges forward 

her last hope

it’s a long shot but 

they say he has power 

unlike anyone before him 

maybe, just maybe 

something will happen 

something good 

for once 


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