Poetry

Does she live on her own?

Pitter-patter, the rain is falling
In traffic jams the cars are crawling
The shops are closing
It’s getting late.

The puddles are freezing, turning to ice.

A woman steps out to cross the road
She slips and drops her shopping load
She sweeps back her scraggily hair
As several on-lookers stop and stare.

She gathers herself and her groceries together.

I watch from a café and wonder whether
She’s on her way home to a family of ten
Or maybe she’s living with three handsome men
Does she live on her own? Or with an elderly mother?
Is she in love with a husband or maybe a lover?

What is it, that will cheer her up
After a nasty fall outside the shop?
A relaxing bath with aromatherapy oils
Planting seeds in compost soils?
Making passionate love with a caring partner
Or reading stories to a son or a daughter?

A stunning young man offers a hand to help her up
Did she fall on purpose or was his being there luck?
They exchange smiles, but her coat’s muddy and wet
So they chat for a moment and she’s soon on her way
She says ‘good bye, I’m glad that we met’.

The two go off in different directions
Maybe they’ll meet again in some other situation.

The rain is still falling,

The traffic still crawling.

And my thoughts soon dissolve as strangely as they appeared.