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Her Particular Secret
Second youngest living thing in a room
fraught with sighs.
A couple shared a joke too loudly, and
now I've got her face on lock:
should I need a way to focus.
A woman in the corner conversed
as if blind to the
shivering blob of humanity that
sat complaining about her.
With some pride, she
said aloud a few ways to hide
the water from your eyes
at work, "Don't let them know
you're weak." She said;
as if they were we, or something like
a villain to her, just now,
and only in this waiting room.
Yet we listened,
though I've forgotten since then.
I find I've got all the focus I need.
