Opening the door,
the familiar yellow light falls through onto the girl.
She is so slender and gentle, her feet hardly disturb the snow.
The street’s noise snaps after her heals
as she closes herself in
and lies down in the small bed in the corner of the room.
She thinks in silent moments and soon dreams.
The men that she has known-
some treated her kindly and some with selfish intent
but all were sweet at first; then cold and sharp at end.
Alone, she awakes early and looks about the dark room.
She can see little but knows all.
There’s the table with the picture of her mother
there’s the shelf with the book about the sea.
What thoughts she has of the day ahead,
what thoughts of days gone by.
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