Wednesday, March 21, 2018

She Wished to Arrive... (Day 427)

she wished to arrive 
before the others 
into a neighboring party
this had happened

why when one is in a rush 
does every road 
suddenly burst 
into garlands of traffic
interrupted only 
by red lights and 
drowsy lumbering busses

that evening it seemed 
all those wide empty highways 
had suddenly shrunk 
down to two lanes 
simply in order to delay her 

stepping into the room 
she was momentarily disoriented
as if she had just jumped 
into a deep hot bath

anyone who sensed her 
anxiety perhaps assumed it 
explained her unusually
perfunctory handshakes and 
neutral cheek-busses
which had always been quite lavish 
as she understood it 
should be among friends

anyone who sensed her
would know just why she was
there and what strange
primal instinct
had drawn her 
like a fluttering summer insect
to a porch light at dusk

she closed her wide lips 
around an olive 
and chewed like a man 
on a thought 
that would normally have 
made all the difference 

(c) 2018, by Hannah Six

In memory of Sue Grafton, whose mystery novels I’ve 
so enjoyed, and whose words inspired it.

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