under a charred trilby
the spit-shined pate
cloud-ringed in white
blue polished eyes
blue pale shirt tucked
under worn blue jeans
accidental cuff on the
right pant leg and
in penny loafers
those red bright socks
a sunspot on the right
brow he gave a sign
of peace he said
A handsome guy
A lovely lady
such a pretty dress
You must be getting
married someday
and they said Okay
and he on floortiles
walked toward bread
eyes quieted
fingers twisted shut
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