She sits


She sits.
She sits and waits.
On the mauve and green sofa
In the over decorated foyer
She sits and waits.
Swollen ankles crossed.
By the artificial flowers
And sleeping ceramic cat
She sits.
Eyes alert, lipstick too bright,
Neat dress of former vogue.
She sits and waits.
Through the door they come
With too cheerful greeting.
Passing by.
No time for conversation.
She smiles, and nods.
And so she sits.
She sits and waits.
But the one she waits for
Will not come through that door.

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