Mary, in the B&N café,
Twirling her long brown hair;
Sipping her second latté, and
Seeing who else is there

Mary, with glasses down her nose,
Reading Cassandra Clair;
Pausing a sec to stretch her toes,
Sinking back in her chair

Mary, as day begins to fade,
Rising, picks up her phone;
Everyday in this crowd arrayed
Yet she is all
Alone