On my way to chorus practice
the first warm spring evening
thinking about today’s poem
wondering how to do after singing
what I usually do before breakfast
but just couldn’t do today
A young woman overtakes and
passes me walking fast as I used to
she is so beautiful young perfect
an exercise mat tightly rolled across
her back like a warriors’ sword
auburn hair in a neat tight bun
squared feminine muscled shoulders
sway slightly in her black jersey knit
long muscular legs in slim black pants
she could be going off to battle or ballet
So I wasted my time admiring her
pulling away down the street
when I should have been thinking
about what to write about . . . .
