Monday, June 17, 2013

Brick Girl

On good days, I see her
sitting on a low wall of bricks.
Sun shining in patches through
the leaves, touching highlights
of her cheek, her light hair,
her hazel eyes.

Serene, looking out
toward the road, statuesque,
in the bustle of others around her.
Her bag leans against the wall.
She sits with her
knees up, arms hugging her legs,
casually, relaxed and patient,
waiting for her ride.

In this pose upon brick
she floats, reflective like
a quiet song with Irish lilt,
harmony with airy whispers,
eyes dreamily smile toward
a vision not yet formed
but promising of beauty,
a mirror of her.

On gloomy days,
the wall grunged in rain,
she waits elsewhere,
and I wait for a good day
to see the brick girl
lazily, gently sitting
with a shadow of a smile
and warm grace in her eyes,
patient yet eager,
looking forward and waiting. 

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