Following John Winston

It’s window shopping for second hand shirts, And short date bargains dictating the meals As composing-words barely meet the rent. A lipstick smile conceals the hidden hurts As no one can ever know how she feels Through unwelcoming streets she walks back home Her mind still churning stories to invent, Another dark thinking to love converts Ignoring the fights and the drug den deals The modern life invades without consent Yet love walks where’er she chooses to roam In dirty back streets or by golden pond As fingers through her chestnut tendrils comb So the poet has learned to see beyond.