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USA
TeachBAP@aol.com
Cherry and the Ford Taurus
She sits, waiting--for what, it does not matter.
She sits in her car, cocooned against the cold,
Isolated, at twilight, a cold, soft twilight of beginning spring.
Church bells chime from somewhere,
Filling the twilight air with gentle melody
As stars play against the edges of the day.
A car pulls in beside her, one car of millions sold
The best-selling car in America--
But this maroon Ford Taurus had been his car before.
He emerges from the red recess of Ford,
A burly bulk of man who fills the space.
A fearsome form, but beard and eyes and smile belie that pose.
His eyes gleam silent wisdom, he knows life and love and loss.
Kind face of understanding, a body that knows its place.
He looks at her and she meets his gaze,
The glance of strangers who look then turn away.
But they try a second glance, an inquiring, quizzical look.
The exchange of two who have known each other ... somewhere,
Who know they have connected ... somewhere ...
At another time, in another place.
He pauses, smiles, and looks her way again,
Then slowly turning, he moves off into the distance
On his journey to somewhere,
Leaving his Ford Taurus -- and her.
And the church bell chimes recede
As a glitter of stars rises above the streaks of fading light.
And darkness and a curious quiet descend,
Enveloping her in its blanket of calm.
She follows his retreating form in fading light,
Certain of their connection in another time and place.
He has known her and been with her in that moment,
And he will be there with her now, she knows that too
As he walks away, into the dark ...
and into her memory -forever.
All Rights Reserved. Printed By Permission.
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