I imagine sometimes
that she is sitting in a chair
watching tv - long lonely night
lies ahead of her - the
stays silent.
Maybe she is out
somewhere at a bar right now
-listening to music- watching
the people dance, only the
losers hit on her.

"No, not tonight," she'd say.

She could be walking these
city streets, coat huddled in
tight against the cold-
it feels like the coldest
day of the year today
Or driving her car out
into the country in
this cold night- blanket
of white covers the ground.

She's not exactly sure who she's looking for.

She's probably a waitress
hoping for that one big
tip that would set her
free- she hates the job.
Maybe she loves her job
behind the counter at a
coffeeshop- so many
interesting people stops in
for a cafe mocha

In any event, she's not looking.

But I might run into her-
someday