She was a street walker
by all accounts
She had a plastic rose
pitifully shedding petals
proudly adorned in her hair
But she did have moxie
and an awareness of diners
At her recommendation
I found an old school diner
serving greasy breakfast fair
As it was only fair
and I alone to boot
I invited her to break fast with me
Order what you like
It’s all on me
Chatting over coffee
and buttered rye toast
Her sometime sordid
sometime glorious past
poetically brought to life
She hungrily tore into eggs
yet somehow she was lovelier
than most dates I’ve had
She was certainly kinder
and possibly saner
I had a full docket
but I handed her a Jackson
on the promise of lunch
I really hoped she would
get a good lunch or dinner
She deserved better
than what life threw her way
but carried better grace than most
myself included
I’m not too proud to admit