Collection box
Times of old
Times spent
In silver
Black and white
Torn with edges
Sometimes just torn
Innocence on her face
She gathers herself
Strangers watch
They prepare coins
For her collection box
For time travel
For a universe before
She sits, legs crossed
At the café
Somewhere in time
Maybe now, maybe then
Maybe not
Maybe nothing
But her
Her time
Her thoughts
And her collection box