Cruel snow, cracked lips, sun lost by four
Cold winces through the cardboard window
Where the cobblestone smashed into glass
And the bare bulb of moon swings over Portage Avenue
And lights the icy ruts sprinkled with sand
Down the dim hall of chain stores to Grace
Where the parking lot is full again
I don't bother locking up
The face before the doors slide apart
Is hers the day they took away the candy
Left gift-shop tulips to frame her alarm

What will I do now?
What will I do now?
What will I do now?
What will I do now?