A Stranded Girl on a Friday Night
She was weeping when we met
Outside a party store
Where the lonely purchase their wine;
Her boyfriend had left her behind
All sad and lost after a fight,
Most likely, about inconsequential things.
I picked her up, half out of human kindness,
Half to be beside a female body
Despite how red and unhappy her face.
She was a beautiful girl in a simple way,
She wore a plain flowery dress
With some charming appeal I can’t explain.
She tried to express in broken sentences
Why she and her boyfriend were upset;
I mostly heard tears and my boyfriend this,
My boyfriend that,
I tried to act like it was as completely earth shattering
As she thought it was.
She gave me directions to where she lived,
I drove diligently toward that destination
Without any attempts to prolong the drive
While I planned out my own strategy of a pass.
When I finally arrived at her place,
Her face was still red but the tears had dried.
She said, “Thanks, mister, you’re a nice guy.”
She got a little closer to me and touched my hand.
I thought she might kiss me, I thought I might kiss her,
But she scooted on out and made for her house.
I wasn’t expecting any action that night,
I can’t claim disappointment.
But I wish I knew if I should pray
For her and her boyfriend to work things out.
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(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
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