Trace (i or y)

I order cherry pie
and a coffee,
black remembering how

Traci (with an i, not y) was popular-pretty
cheerleader captain, darling of the football team.
Her teeth, white and sparkly, shined like beacons
in every highschooler's dream.

Traci (with an i, not y) was hand- picked
 to present a wholesome cherry pie
to President Ronald  Regan
when he came to visit our tiny town.

Traci (with an i, not y) attended all the best
parties and presentations
in dresses hand designed purchased
with money politician daddy
squeezed  from his constituents.

Now, Tracy (with a y, not i) is serving my dinner
at this shiny parkway diner a crisp
white apron around her spreading waist,
yellow smile, red eyes widening in recognition.

Tracy (with a y, not i) tells me how she  laments
an  unmarked
grave, too small for souls;
her bare ring finger;
the crack in her voice when she says
"We all sell our bodies and minds
for the desires of strangers
to keep starvation at bay."

I eat my dessert
leave a tip
pay the check.