It was a boring, cold, wet Wednesday afternoon when I first saw her.
Outside, the rain pounded on the metal roof, and not too far sat a woman,
Sitting in the yard under a great oak tree, just by the family barn.
The mist clung to the grassy yard.
There sat a woman.
She did not stand but sat, and by her legs lay her hat.
Under the great big oak tree,
There sat a woman.
And there she sat and began to sew.
Her name I did not know.
There sat a woman.
I opened the window to see closer.
Who could this woman be?
Her name I did not know.
There sat a woman.
I then left the shack and crossed the yard to the woman
Under the great big oak tree.
There sat a woman.
She then laid down her sewing, when I showed signs of slowing.
Under the great big oak tree,
There sat a woman.
She then got up and took her hat, and down the road she strode.
She didn’t look back.
