The Cafe and She.
She stares right inside
Hands cupped above her eyes
She rubs the glass with her gloves,
Unaware of how conspicuous
Is her face to all the tea drinkers.
Her eyes linger at the window,
Scanning the shoppers, waitresses and widows.
"Is she not quite right ?"
"Her hair used to be straight."
"He can't cope with her anymore."
"She's only got a distant,
a very, very distant
"But she can still walk."
"She's a stubborn old mule, I think."