Blind.

From a distance, the sunlight was blinding

I saw red skirts running around and chattering.

bright smiles and peaceful hands

when they turned I saw their faces

One of them was mine

but she was a thousand years old.

They ate dusty fruits and giggled all the way home.

I stared at them from the interiors of a steaming tin furnace.

The red skirt and the white shirt are long forgotten now.

The blue corridors have eaten them up.