Woman with a Veil 1

Ms. Haiku

In a splash of rain sunrise calls it quits. 
Umbrellaless I dodge rain drops befit 
of retired Olympians then split 
focus between coffee and the culprit.

She wears a veil of pain, anger, and fear
sown in mist and knit by her lovely dears 
in thoughts corroded, the space of years
disguised as fashion she drapes ear to ear.

She never follows me into coffee 
shops where I view many living stories
bound as books, the swords to memories 
perpetrated to life from puzzle dreams.

Her flapper sigh, her Vanity Fair pout
stuck in rain as this mystery plays out.