Tuesday, February 21, 2012

Late valentine to the chauffeur, for all the world to see

I come to an end of my time as only a passenger.  My beloved has been my chauffeur.  I am glad for the coming independence.  I am also grateful for morning and evening conversations, the ways we both point out particular birds or signs or possibilities, the talk of the day ahead, and the day behind.  Most of all I am glad for the talk.

No one sits in the front seat
With the chauffeur,
Plays footsie or alternatively
Comments on the odd street signs,
The way the clouds move,
The particular order
To the day ahead.
Shall I pick you up at 4:30?
He says.
4:30 is good,
She says.

No one kisses the chauffeur
Then waits to kiss him hello
When he returns.

No one that is,
But me,
Sits in the front seat
With the chauffeur without a hat
Plays handsie,
Waits to kiss him hello
When he returns.

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