by Richard Vince

Though it’s dark at five and the air
Outside is damp and cold,
It’s summer inside, in the small
Pocket of air surrounding her.

Fanning herself with news and
Quenching her thirst with
Overpriced water, she allows her arms
To feel the early evening streetlights’
Reassuring glow as they
Illuminate our way home.

Her hair is that awkward length
At which it can’t make up its mind:
Too long to be practical, yet too short
To be kept out of the way. She holds
It off her shoulders, or tucks it behind
Her ears, but it won’t stay still
For long.

As she dons her jacket once more,
We are back in November, but
I know that summer is merely
A layer of clothing away.


Posted on 11/11/2013
Copyright © 2022 Richard Vince

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 11/13/13 at 03:51 PM

A simple scene yet so engaging, even the hair has a layering. You've really got a fine touch for story telling. Loved that last stanza.

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