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Let them stand in line together:
he, with his seven canvas bags
she, with her packsack and purse.

The procession of acolytes
waits to undertake at the check in desk
the ceremony of tagging the luggage.

They could be pilgrims circling
the Holy Mosque in Mecca
or patrons waiting for a liquor store to open.

The tense boredom prevents socializing;
but he can smell her musky perfume,
she his breezy aftershave.

She notes his rumpled gortex;
he evaluates her powdered cleavage.
She drops her purse: things scatter.

A clerk calls for the next passenger:
he steps past her as she fumbles at
her stuff, betrayed by her swimming eyes.

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About riverwriter

Poet, playwright, duplicate bridge player, website designer, cottager, husband, father, grandfather, former athlete, carpenter, computer helper for my friends, theatre designer, backstage polymath, retired teacher of highschool English, drama, art, a baritone singer in a barbershop quartet, who knows what else? wordcurrents is on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/wordcurrents/ Doug also has a Facebook page, "Incognitio", related to his novels.
This entry was posted in lotus eaters, Poetry, serial and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to close

  1. danae mcC says:

    The cad! Was it something a dearth of designer labels said?

    Interesting social commentary. Much has changed, the kindness of strangers being in very short supply.

    • riverwriter says:

      I included this piece in the “lotus eaters” category as a part of my commentary on society; so much human contact is eviscerated by our garrison mentality, even before manners or humanity or charity or good samaritanism can operate.

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