Friday Night Poem

She came through here, not long ago.

Lady on a Bicycle

The last rays of evening sun catch her
Hair, smoothing it back over her naked ear.
The air is chilly,
But the day smiles too kindly
For a lovely beauty to cover her head.
Modesty would be impolite.

In the background, cars
Joust across a stony median.
(Home is in both directions.)
Their hurried passing seems to slow
Her pace down to tai-chi.

She lifts her knees and
The bicycle sways agreeably,
Following the tilt of her face
As the afternoon slides off her cheek
Into shadow.

The sun parts ways
At her doorstep.
She will find her keys
Padded deep within her coat.

She will shuffle,
Shedding her arms of burden.
Shoulder bag up on the bar stool,
Her coat on the couch,
Keys by the coffee table.

In her studio kitchen, she
Will leave a small light lit
Through the night - its pale light
Unnoticeable in the morning

She will put her feet up,
Play with her phone and
Daddle a few thoughts -
    'Hmm,' says her pretty frown -
Before surrendering to the TV,
Dinner, and making the call
                              To him.