Morning Memories
There was a blond bombshell
seated in a red Corvette
flying new paper plates.
She was headed east
in the morning on the 215
into a glorious newborn day.
A quick glance to the side,
captured in my memory.
a porcelain face, rouged, ready,
Framed by white-rimmed
sunglasses and pouty lips
steadied in a purposeful smile.
I’d hoped for a glimmer of
eye contact reflected in her mirror
as she pulled ahead of me,
With nothing but exotic fantasies
beside her in the empty seat
of my peek into paradise.
