tonight

i stopped my walk

on this block,

because i saw

the headlights

and i waved.

the door was

opened, in i

stepped, first

gathering my skirt

(myself)

then stepped

off of the watered

iced street.

and i sat,

and no one spoke,

and i sat,

and someone

coughed.

and i sat.

we heard

some footfalls

outside

like passing trains,

but i did not move

my eyes.

too many raindrops 

on the glass were 

too clear tonight.

you were

just a dot

barely moving

on the shaking

globes of water.

and i sat.

and we drove.

and the train passed.