On the Crosstown Shuttle

Standing room only
by the time she got on in the morning rush.
Each day he rose from the seat
he had claimed.

Face flushed, she acquiesced, a ritual
engaged with natural grace.
Though the ride was rough,

the waft of her perfume was worth it.
He needed no more thanks,
nor did he get it

for she was as reticent as her knight
of bold deeds and chivalry
on this ride to the city;

The shyest of smiles
made her his lady
as surely as a scarf bestowed.

Too soon they arrived at her stop
where the outside world
claimed the starring role.

Reality returned without mercy…
No words were needed to seal the deal;
they would meet again tomorrow…
Same time, same perfume.

7 thoughts on “On the Crosstown Shuttle

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