Don't ask me who she was, crying
Her: sobbing, boo-hoo. & it was almost 6 pm,
I'll never know what she might have felt though,
bunched in smug fists all up & down the branches
on Main Street, yelling with rage in the parking lot.
I have my own problems now! My own colossal anger
for us to move into together, with no front porch,
So many hyphenated memories! I don't know if we're limited by memory (she's probably smiling now, a long way from the sorrows of that porch) or liberated by it (in my green office but suddenly not).