The woman in the window seat
With faraway eyes and a private smile.
The woman who scowls to pull out her phone
But answers with a softened profile.
The woman who perks up at work
Hopeful at every message beep.
The woman who loves to read happy endings.
And the woman who cries herself to sleep.
The woman who idly doodles
As if she didn't know just what to say.
The woman whose laughter crumbles
The moment her friends look away.
Little vignettes that jolt me, and tell
That must be how I appear as well.
~1 October 2012
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