Waiting to Flower
by Winston Willis

She sits shivering, outside
and all alone, naked
as the dead heat of winter.

She sits silently at the train station,
watching Van Gogh like images
of blurry smiles, coming and going---

They do not have the slightest idea
what she is waiting for, love

does not walk off the Amtrak Express
everyday. She is the only one
who can make things right,

yet she sits awkwardly, waiting
to meet him, the one who has answers
and will bring her flowers with candy.

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