it looks like a
wig
but stands
strong
in the wind
as it almost
blows away
all my thoughts
on a voyage
out west with
her she carries
her book by VC
Andrews
under her arm
never read
but heard of
the flowers
with me a
notebook
and a pocket
full of pens
only time will
tell
most definitely
not a wig
at second
glance
she doesn’t
even know
this pen dances
about her
being here in
this place
young like me
might be too young
to understand
the potency of words
so much
happening
in short time sitting
watching three
men
figure out the
bill
wondering what
she reads
and is easily
distracted
by all that is
going on
nervously
tapping her cigarette
into the
ashtray
not even
realizing the lit part
fell off into
the glass
always
wondering
about what it
all means
knowing that a
winter
hat does no
good
if its not
covering the ears…
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