in appreciation

She walked out and lit a cigarette,
just one, to clear her head.
She's been trapped too long,
too wrong about everything.

I won't begrudge her anything,
not on this rainy day. It brings
a gray distress, unrest and
it hangs from her fingers, gently.

She sweeps across the quads, swiftly,
her arms crossed. Moving intently
somewhere better, a bit later,
but not quite ready to leave.

She's prettier than she believes,
yet she waits for a reprieve:
love gone sour, a regrettable hour,
a fast unraveling dream?

this is another one of those poems about someone real. i've always been drawn to people who look like they are troubled.