strolling

she strolls alone
bundled in a fraying peacoat,
eyes scattered toward the ground,

hovering above knitted scarf folds
dangled down past her knees,
she strolls alone,

(the city night a familiar hallway
morphing tenants' portraits with each block)

legs scratching at sidewalk cement,
she stops, draughting at red
lights and cross walks

(the traffic a conveyor belt
of whitewater crash orchestral hits)

she strolls alone
arms cinched in pocets,
no purse around her shoulder,

the thin slopes sharp into the empty
swallowing the around-her.