Parking Lot

Parking Lot

I did not expect to be thrilled

Standing in the long yawn

Of the parking lot

Waiting across time for a ride

But she cut across the sprawl

Like an apparition transported

(Walking on wheels)

The pavement parting in her wake

Her head crowned in scarlet

feathers like exclamation marks

Framing her dark eyes

darting across the faded yellow

lines on the pavement

Surveying the wasteland

With a benevolent crimson smile

Her long mink coat

Above the hem

of her red Silk dress

Playing over her old bowed legs

The bumps and arthritis second

To stylish high heels

Grinding over the bits of silt and pebble.

Hanging on the grandmother's arm

a slight girl

of twenty

New to Canada

and so in love

With this enticing grand

This bon vivant

Tossing off a casual greeting now

in English

to me

The middle aged woman

In a tired black coat

Waiting for a ride

Like a water buffalo

Waiting