Her hands clutch desperately;
her eyes tense, tears easing:
her heart bleeds in her breast;
her breath bates heavily.
Waves of weak despair crest
and break across her brow;
rain slates upon the shield
of glass she gazes through
musing on its meanings,
unable to accept
frustration, fate, her lot
rudely ripped from her–
existential ennui
in the Target parking lot.
