She was a true Russian Princess
every hair in place, each seam perfect
blouse closely contouring svelte torso
even her cut-off jean shorts displayed
a precisely even edge of threads.
She looked out the bus window
as if from a carriage traversing
St Petersburg on a clear winter day
regal without assuming airs
simply emanating her angelic nature.
If you never believed in reincarnation
she could change your mind easily
for Anastasia peered out from eyes
so brilliant that Spirit itself begged
for audience with this fragile ice child.
