The Not Quite Right Woman

The wide mouth
smiles fixedly
when her speech stops.
I sense she
doesn't mean it
even as nature hints
deep down
she does. Hair
is in gentle curls
that nobody made up.
I sense she was born
in a family of
south end chatters.
Greets every stranger
who enters the bus
with a question
about the weather.
I sense she thinks
the world is like
a neighborhood.
Tells us
she is not
the weather lady.
Spreads seeds
of civilization
in the street.