The speaker watches an older woman, Loretta, move quietly past, dressed in faded grey and red. She seems alone and self-contained, yet the speaker feels deeply touched by her, even though she herself stays "untouched." That small contradiction sets the tone: distance and closeness at once.
The poem hints at a sad history. Loretta's smile looks "so old," and for years she has seemed defined by a "confectionary fall," a sweet-sounding phrase that suggests something painful or embarrassing, though the poem doesn't spell it out. Now she carries the "open wound" of a sister, which suggests loss or grief that hasn't healed.
The last lines shift. Stepping into "her world," the speaker becomes someone else, with separated bangs and the name Judy. Judging by this, the speaker may be imagining or remembering herself inside Loretta's life, perhaps as the sister. The mood is hushed, tender and a little haunted.