All Legs, Still in Her Black Audi

There she is again, walking by,
Head buried in her phone.

All legs.

I tried to forget them,
And instead to think of her face,
And of her thoughts,
Of her nature, of her interests, her likes,
Her dislikes, and of all the things
That inspire her.

This morning her legs, and then she,
Stepped out of her Audi, her Black Audi.
I stepped out of my black.

She walked past. I caught a dose of
sun, and smiled at her with it,
Suppressing my desire to find out,
Right then and there, what makes her happy.

I said, “Good morning.”
She smiled, like young girls
Who look away with their smiles,
And mumbled, “good morning,”
Like someone suppressing
An already-formed opinion of me.

I wish and hope for her
To outgrow her legs,
And walk with her head high.
And give me my tomorrow,
Like she means to meet me then.

Featured image: Pensive Young Woman, by Camille Corot (c.1865),

/* ]]> */