An unlikely duo

                

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Watching her board bathed in fog at the station,

spectacles slide down the bridge of his nose

Usually a blur, not in this situation,

smudges can’t hide every beauty she shows

 

Lugging a satchel in high heels and cotton,

in her left arm rests a statue that grins

Such an odd sight, this her concrete companion,

never you mind as the journey begins

 

Timidly calling the glass doors to open,

counting his change spread of nickels and dimes

Gasping for breath on a curb painted yellow,

escaping the past, oh those horrible times

 

Filled, every row, ‘cept a seat near the driver,

all eyes affixed as the vinyl bench sighs

Kicking her shoes to abbreviate blisters,

freedom is felt in the footwear goodbyes

 

Nervous he waves from the corner still pacing,

climbing the steps of a Westminster bus

Pulled at his limbs by another intrusion,

faking his mood so she thinks there’s a fuss

 

Taking a seat between cement and flannel,

rolling his eyes that he don’t mean at all

Watching her lips as she inhales discretely,

feeling his library heart start to fall

 

She tugs his ear with her thin ringless fingers,

whispers a secret he hopes comes to share

Hides from the window, the vehicle moving,

nary a glance towards the morning sun’s glare

 

She holds her gnome like her life is depending,

when all she needs fills the seat right next door

Porcelain dust on her clothes has her sneezing,

handkerchief offered he nicked at the store

 

Such is the dream of a bookworm delivered,

finding the chapter, he’d thought long ago

Angels and demons and pretzel tan loafers,

potholes and clues juggled way down below

 

What is this trail winding out to the country,

she gives a smile so much more than the fare

Holding on tight to a vested creation,

seeking adventure of those debonair

 

Here now we find such an unlikely duo,

still in their eyes shines reflections of grace

She has her man and her plan contemplated,

he has his heart in the very same place

 

Exhaust fumes emit in a paisley frost pattern,

corduroy sidewalks bid all a farewell

Searching for love is the now destination,

what will they find, only time it will tell

 

And as a western of popcorn persuasion,

into the sunset, they fade in the glow

What once was billed as a short presentation,

nowhere, “The End” on this page will now show

Author's Note

Based on characters in a novel a friend is writing on another site.
Say hello to Elke (and Lumpkey, her cement garden gnome)
and Henry, the librarian. Both kind of quirky and both on a quest to solve a murder.
I don’t expect you to get this but thought you might enjoy reading.
I also wrote a sequel if anyone is interested. (Which, you’re probably not)

Reviews

[Julie McCarthy (juliesp..]

Love this poem so good 😊
And never underestimate yourself it puts you in a delicate position just say read my sequel ! Watch this space!
life’s too short to underestimate oneself I did it most of my life !

[willweb]

Thanks so much Julie. I am not necessarily underestimating myself, I just know how people are. I think the sequel is very good but the attention span of most nowadays is very. very short I am afraid. But thank you for your encouraging words and for your support of my poetry. I appreciate you my friend.

[Julie McCarthy (juliespenhere)]

Sequel please
Hi 👋

[willweb]

Here you go:
https://www.writerscafe.org/writing/Willweb/2840324/