A Lady of the Day

Freedom, a glass dove in the fists of man

I saw her crossing the street on San Pedro

long brown legs exposed, shining in the sun, her dress

hugged her thighs tight, in all the colors of a sunset.

A loose pair of flip flops flecked with earth, a knotted wig-

a smile, palms up in sky, like the day was all for her

She had nothing else.

And he in his red mustang and bloated snarl

drove by, clenching his right hand, fingers bulging over gaudy rings

glared, holding her contentment in contempt.

Just wait, he thinks, just wait till he gets his hands on her

or better yet, his dick.

He'd show her how miserable life can be with more,

how grateful she should be that he doesn't display

what marks his ego leaves- but he can't stop.

He has to get back to that dirt-less, unspotted office,

while she smiles and walks slowly on in the sun.

-For the powerful woman who inspired this poem- your joy was a breathtaking light to behold.