Originally Written in 2010
The red tones of the brick walkway
were accentuated by the blood
which had pooled across it.
My bus had yet to arrive
so for the time being I sat and watched a woman
attempt to remove the stains.
I asked to which she responded
with nothing more than a quick glance.
She was of Hispanic descent
small in stature
and getting on in years.
As the cleaning fluid mixed with the blood,
pink foamy swirls danced into existence
stretching slowly outward
and growing thinner with each passing moment.
When my bus finally arrived
she had begun to spray away all that remained.
Soapy bubbles, hemoglobin
and some poor souls tragic story.
Each element diluted to nothing more than
a thin coating which would soon dry into obscurity
as the day and the world went on.