she got on about three stops after I did <br />I was sure she was conversant in ballet <br />by the way she danced up the steps <br />and delicately deposited her passage <br />into the device next to the driver <br /> <br />her fingers were disproportionately <br />long and far too elegant for <br />such tiny hands <br /> <br />her nails were ornately painted <br />with purple flowers on a white back lay <br />she must have been very ambidextrous as <br />each tiny fingernail looked exactly alike <br /> <br />it was winter and there was about <br />18 inches of snow in the lanes <br />she wore white rubber boots <br />the bus wore its annual tire chains. <br /> <br />I was dressed in my traditional white tennis shoes, <br />weathered blue jeans a white Eddie Bauer T <br />and my socks were soaking wet <br />from trying to dodge the slush <br />near the bus stops <br /> <br />she was enveloped in a long <br />camel-hair pea coat <br />and, crazy as it sounds <br />a feather hat much like <br />Robin Hood used to wear <br /> <br />I thought I would depart before her <br />as she asked for a transfer <br /> <br />like a novice-carom-billiard player <br />I almost fell flat on my backside <br />when the bus shot off <br />before I could grab the overhead rail <br />as I lent her my seat <br /> <br />the bus was lousy <br />with swing shift laborers <br />headed to the fish packing plants <br />I one of them <br /> <br />pangs of passion <br />swelled deep in my heart <br /> <br />and seeped through every pore <br />I wanted to hold her in my arms <br />and love her, nothing more. <br /> <br />then she left, brushed close by me <br />and the driver sweetly shut the door <br />pain exhaled softly <br />silencing a lion's roar <br /> <br />with mangled mane (and vanquished pride) <br />I knew not what to infer <br />through toothless jaws silently cried <br />my heart alone for her <br /> <br />the seat where she once sat <br />remained unoccupied <br />save for her plumed hat <br />that I stared at <br />'til the end of my ride<br /><br />Alan Reed<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/frayed-plume/
