70spoems/oldlady

THE KANSAS CITY TRAIN STATION

Here in this concrete cave
is a different life,
an old woman crouched
in the night,
peddles stale donuts,
soggy chips,
syrupy soda pop.

Grumpy travelers scold her,
complain about the service,
the lack of choice.

Her wrinkled hands
ring up another sale,
she calls out
the price, unsmiling.
A million miles
on the slick planks
beneath the counter,
I imagine she has never
left the station.

9/9/77