The Village

The Village

One morning a woman walked into the village
No one ever walked into
No one no one knew anyway
The first man she saw 
He was shoeing horses she told him she’d lived in that village 
He was about her age
And couldn't for the life of him
Remember her
She told everyone she met
She’d lived there 
But no one knew her name neither
Her first nor her last
Much less her two names together
They figured she was mad
And let her wash and dry glasses in the inn
In exchange for a room 
Cluttered with broken furniture
She had to climb over 
To reach her straw-stuffed bed
And in time she could truthfully say
She lived in that village
Just as she’d said