Blue Dress Pink Stroller

In my town there is a woman, beautiful in her own way.
I see her on the sidewalks of Bear Valley almost everyday.


Today she was wearing a blue dress. She wore it yesterday too.
She’s dressed as if she’s headed to a senior prom in 1982.

Her hair is a frizz of black with chunks of gray. Her skin, beautiful brown.
I wonder how many miles her feet have traveled in this God forsaken town.

She has bags under her eyes. They are dark and carry a blank stare.
I feel the moments that they show her light are unfortunately too rare.

She, like many women, is pushing a pink stroller with her life inside.
But unlike those women, it’s her clothes and toothbrush along for the ride.

She has no baby, no husband, no family and no home.
For if she did, these sidewalks she’d have no need to roam.

She makes her daily visits to the recycling center and the Mall.
When I put myself in her boots, I wonder who’d come should I call.

Tomorrow when she wakes, she’ll fluff her dress and put a pin in her hair.
She’ll lock up her mind and her heart and put on her blank stare.

She’ll walk the sidewalks of Bear Valley Road carrying her pain.
Next time I see her in the Mall, I will ask her for her name.