Alone

A little girl looks out her window

and smiles, watching cars go by

at the uneven pace of late afternoon

traffic in the city, noting with delight

her limited view of the day’s

fading sun and the streaks of light

left on the horizon as darkness

approaches, the steady sounds of

angry car horns floating up

to her room in a familiar, hypnotic

symphony.

 

She shivers as she walks barefoot

across the tile floor, hard and cold

from the room’s blasting air conditioner,

taking her place in an oversized

chair that barely compromises

her view, feeling strangely at-home

in this unlikely place, closing her

eyes and breathing deeply while

she hugs her knees and wonders

what she can do about the worried

looks on every face she sees, how

she can make them feel better, how

to tell them that they’re only making

her sad.

 

She absentmindedly twists a strand

of her long, blond hair, contemplating

the beauty that we all lose amidst the

mundane details of everyday life,

wondering if anyone else had

paid attention to today’s sunset, had

even stopped and looked skyward if

only for a minute, then studying her

reflection growing stronger in the pane

of glass that separates her from the

darkening sky, illuminated from inward

by institutional, fluorescent lights,

casting her ghostly vision as if on

a disappearing television, she finally

succumbs to tears of unbearable

incomprehension and fear as she

runs her tiny fingers along the scar

that runs from her temple to just

behind her ear, the patch of hair

already stubbly from a few week’s

growth.

-CV 

Reviews

[D S Rollins]

I love the enjambment use in this poem, it flows and it's beautiful. Nice write!