She Listens

She sits alone

A cigarette in one hand
poised between her fingers,
slowly dancing to her benevolent lips.
Her ears burn for soft spoken words.
Voices, upon voices, upon voices
Clamoring together, a chorus of the human condition.

Forks clank clank,
Plates rattle.
Laughter, whispers, chatter.
Somewhere in the background
Bob Dylan pays homage to Woody
And her blue eyes well up in waves,
like a tide slowly coming in.