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Streetlights

katiebirdie -

 

The night wrapped around her shoulders

like a cloak as she waited between the streetlights,

standing where neither’s warm glow could touch her.

She was waiting for a yellow car, she told me,

one with scrapes all along the sides

from a crash long past.

I would have liked to hear the story,

but I had work too soon to stay.


All the walk, however, my mind turned  

and wandered back around to the two streetlights.

It seemed like a painting to me, 

a woman in a red cap and black coat,

watching the street for her yellow car, 

and I wondered who drove it.

A sibling; a friend; a lover?

Man or woman? Young or old?

Were they as cheerful as their sunshine ride,

or a dour soul stuck with a dreadful hue?

I would have liked to see their face,

but I had work to soon to stay.



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