On a gray day
On a cloudy day
For a moment or two
A midmorning sun finally breaks through
With a flash so brilliant, so bright
She’s a portrait of black and white
A fallen angel in heavenly light
The perfect model for some fashion label
Sitting on top of a picnic table

Solar flames highlight and hotten her hair
Which smells of shampoo and smoke in the air
As she burns a second cigarette
One for each regret:
A certain hand that was accepted
Another hand that was rejected
Not so long ago, yet longer and longer ago
Now one is just ashes, the other dim glow 

And I can’t help but wonder what she is thinking
As she sits all alone, barely blinking
But she doesn’t say a word
The only sound that is heard
Slips from moist, parted lips
A sigh—
Her nicotine cloud now adds to the sky
Some mysterious phantom from deep, deep inside
Ever harder and harder to hide 

Oh, what would people say
If her secret got away?
Andrew Dabar­­