waiting for what's next

as she waited at the small table
by the door, the large plate glass
window at her shoulder, she pondered
the moment. how things moved so quickly
getting here, now. there was
so much behind her and nothing
but mystery in front. she was
wrung free of verve
and optimism. divorce and moving
had brought her out of a happy
shell, a life protected
with sameness. home and family.
fence and dog. a garden.
this was a new path. this apartment
with a balcony, three floors
up with laundry down the hall.
her feet hurt from the new heels,
the dress felt too tight.
she checked her face in
the mirrored reflection of
the stenciled window reading
restaurant. she waited.
he was late, this stranger.
this date which wasn't a date
at all, but a spin of some
online roulette wheel of faces
and people seeking love
so late in life. she waited,
for what else was there to do?