Young woman walking

When she passed me on the bridge,

there were only a few inches

of pale lower calf

between the plain cotton skirt

and the tops of her well-worn work boots.

A lustrous red-brown they were.

Her faded blue skirt

folded up around her legs

and fluttered at the hem.

She was walking a half-step faster than I was.

I caught a glimpse

of cheek and dark glasses,

her rusty hair tied back,

and I followed her as she pulled away.

She carried a book in one hand.

I wondered if we might have had anything

to say to each other.

For I was nearly twice her age,

and a stranger.

Maybe if I see her again,

I’ll ask her where she got her boots.

***

When she passed me on the bridge, there were only a few inches of pale lower calf between the plain cotton skirt and the tops of her well-worn work boots. A lustrous red-brown they were. Her faded blue skirt folded up around her legs and fluttered at the hem. She was walking a half-step faster than I was. I caught a glimpse of cheek and dark glasses, her rusty hair tied back, and I followed her as she pulled away. She carried a book in one hand.

I wondered if we might have had anything to say to each other. For I was nearly twice her age, and a stranger. Maybe if I see her again, I’ll ask her where she got her boots.