lucy

let's talk about lucy
now. i ran into her
at the grocery store.
she had forgotten
her purse so i gave
her twenty dollars,
one ten and two fives, i put
them in her hand and she
was so happy that she
didn't have to run
out to her car in the
pouring rain to pay
for her milk and bread,
her cans of tuna
and lettuce and magazines,
kitty litter. she smiled
and said i'll pay you back
tomorrow. promise, cross
my heart. she lives across
the street from me, a few
doors down. i see her
nearly every day walking
her cat on a leash, we wave,
talk about the weather,
the price of gas,
trash pick up,
meteor showers, etc.
friendly banter between
neighbors. i lent her
the twenty dollars a
month ago and now she
avoids me. she takes
her cat out the back on
the way to the park.
she comes and goes
at strange hours, i never
seem to see her anymore
during the daylight hours.
i saw her the other
day wearing sunglasses
and a kerchief like
audrey hepurn sneaking
through the alleyway
with a bag of groceries
cradled in her arms.
i want to tell her to
not worry about the money
anymore, it means nothing
to me, but she won't pick
up the phone or answer
the door when i knock.
i even left a twenty on
her porch in an enevelope,
hoping she would give it
to me to end this madness.
but no. she kept it.
two days ago there was
a for sale sign in front
of her house, and then
a moving van came to take
everything away. i never
saw her during all of
this time. this morning her
cat was tied to my front door
with some moving twine,
with a note of apology
pinned to her pink studded
collar. i'm sorry about
not paying you back, it said,
but you can have my cat.
best wishes. lucy.