Cool Front

Dirt-crusted dress hem,

hair wind-tangled,

brows furrowed,

she sat upon a pail

fixing the carriage wheel.

 

Just another day

in her one-woman-show life;

she was in charge,

had a system of mastery

for the daily grind and

all the misfortunes

that seemed to find her.

 

Of course, the black storm cloud

mocked her and released the downpour…

 

Like the archetypal knight

passing the damsel-in-distress,

he, at once, dismounted his horse

splashing mud onto his finely-pressed pants.

She rolled her eyes out of habit

and without a glance

robotically muttered,

“Thanks, but I got it.”

 

“I can see that, ” he casually replied

and silently held the umbrella to keep her dry.

 

She finished the repair

without ever looking up,

but when she rose to leave,

their bodies brushed.

 

She boldly met and held his eyes.

After a long while, he slowly smiled,

 

put her hand on his umbrella

and mounted his horse,

tipped his hat

and set off,

and as she watched his back

against the sunless backdrop,

 

she permitted her own slow smile

to come out,

and, of course, that’s when

he turned around

for that once-more glance.

 

“Damn,” she murmured

under her breath.

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