Black shoes too big for her feet,
Feet dragging to keep the high heels on,
On the edge of the curb she slowly,
Slowly walks to display her legs black  stockings,
Stockings, exposed thighs, short shorts,
Shorts black, she is dressed in all black,
Black garter belts wave at all who she can see,
See how she clutches her purse under her coat,
Coat hood caped on her head,  black sunglasses,
Sunglasses half way down the bridge of her nose,
Nose slightly bent, let trails of smoke out,
Out in the cold air, cars rush by, gaping jacket open,
Open to getting into a warm vehicle out of the cold,
Cold legs, cold wind, no warmth,
Warmth
of any human kindness,
lost to public blindness,
to what she needs,
Turning her head, hooded dark brown coat draped,
She may have looked like a Sith lord to some,

To someone,
she may have been a Jedi  knight, this
daylight walk was at the end of her night
shift
shift
your thoughts,
what if this street edge walker
were a mother and daughter too,
not related to me or to you,
you hope for her...

The stub or her smoke gave her one last puff,
and
she
was
gone.

not sure where she went,
home or does she change
and roam all day,
awaiting for the change that
night brings to this aging waif.

When she sleeps
             and where,
I pray she is safe.