Sonder

The house is guarded by cacti
Thorns and blooming flowers
A lawn of dirt and weeds
I have only seen the woman who lives there once
My father said that she looks like shes been through the wringer
I feel bad for her
Shes an old women who looks like she could have once been beautiful
I tried not to look at her for too long
She scowled at me as I passed by
Her hands dirty, loose shirt
She must have a story

Her story must be fascinating
What made her repress
Hang up the No Tresspassing signs
Cacoon herself in a web
of thorns
Was she sick or sad
Scared of the world or infuriated by it
I should have said hello
But her glance had me too frightened
And the pastel punk colors of the Arizona sunset hung like watercolor paint
A character right out of a Stephen King book
I wondered how many monkey paws she kept hidden in a box
Why did I care?
Perhaps because everyone has a story and hers seems to be the most interesting
Of the crowd of faces down these streets

I hope she's doing ok