the new job

she can't decide
on the new job. she isn't cut
from that cloth.
to sell,
to sit
and ponder, type and stare
into a screen
within four walls,
her clipped wings behind her.
it's money.
it's a start, it's an open
door.
is there a window she wonders.
is there coffee.
is there a clock
on the wall
and a calendar to see
as the seasons
go by.