I watched her donate a coat to the cold

I watched her donate a coat to the cold,

a gesture like warmth wrapped in stories untold.

The frayed cuffs brushed gently against a worn bench,

where echoes of kindness pulled softly, and drenched.

I felt like a shadow, a ghost in the sun,

the mercy of strangers too heavy to shun.

Questions like ice chips lodged deep in my throat,

I wondered how long till compassion could float.

With each silent moment, I caught a glimpse rare,

of grace unencumbered, like fresh winter air.

Yet here I stood still, an unmoving old tree,

rooted in thoughts of what mercy could be.