With a simple, unconscious act,
she began drawing me in.
Crossing of legs, with a flash of thigh;
a skirt riding unintentionally high,
separated this woman from the others
sitting plain and still around me
like stones scattered about the waiting room.
Her image quickly took root in
the fertile soil of my imagination.
The curve of her calf.
The angle of her jawline.
Black hair tumbling to her shoulders,
framing her golden-skinned face.
Probably Polynesian, I mused,
and suddenly we were alone.
The humming fluorescent lights
replaced by South Pacific sun.
Cold tile floors became warm sand.
In the froth and foam of breaking waves
we laughed, splashing, until suddenly,
cruelly, paradise was snatched away
with the inevitable, jarring question of,
“Can I help the next person?”
About the Creator
Randy Baker
Poet, author, essayist.
My Vocal "Top Stories":
* The Breakers Motel * 7 * Holding On * Til Death Do Us Part * The Fisherman
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