No Escape. (This morning going to work.)
Drifting out of the fog and onto the median
a thin woman draped in a red blanket,
wearing baby blue tights,
eyeliner and mascara running in black streaks down her face.
Lost looking, dazed, she crosses the street,
circles slowly in place in a gas station.
The light turns green, I pull away, craning my head
to catch one last glimpse
of her simply standing there.
A sign on a beauty shop next to a liquor store
boasts 100% natural Indian hair
and I wonder about an Indian woman
who shaved her head, perhaps her daughter’s head,
standing in a marketplace, a kitchen, maybe a field,
fresh white scalps and deep brown skin.