I glanced up and saw them walking towards me.

A teacher, and her student.

They were walking slowly, gracefully, like women always do.

They were holding hands, and, I saw them draw closer together as they drew nearer.

I stood back a little, to give them space.

And in that instant, they were both the same age, united by the sadness of parting.

They hugged.

And the teacher came towards me, while her student stood, each of her hands holding a tuft of her skirt.

Each face etched with sorrow; each face softened by tears. 

And it was beautiful, and poetic somehow.