Waiting Room
Central train station was
crowded, hot, and smelly.
I worried
“She’s a lady, maybe she won’t come in.”
I bought tickets
sat between
a snoring fat man
and a frail woman carrying a Chihuahua.
The Gruen clock ticked
my ardor faltered
enumerating reasons
She wouldn’t show up.
The station door opened
all the air
left the room
as Daisy entered.
Dragging a bulging brown suitcase
crimson lipstick
navy-blue dress
cream pearls.
Radiant
She pressed her hand
to my thumping heart
“Our life begins.”
Photo Attribution: Adobe Stock
