She's not home. That's a shame, but it doesn't seem tragic.
The sun's on her back porch. There isn't much wind. I can
Sit there for hours and happily wait. I may doze on that thin
Patch of grass past the concrete which she calls a lawn,
And, at some point, I'll give up if she's gone too long, but I
Won't be crushed if I don't get to see her. I'll have had
An enjoyable day.