Watching Her Walk
Her presence moves
frail bent, head down
with a bow-strung gait
eyes fixed to pavement
Stopping, darting eyes
see something bothersome
a crack; a cautious step
moves her forward again
At first, heads turned
eyebrows cocked, curiously
watching her walk
watching that walk
A respectful 'hello Mary'
is usually heard
aging fast each year
less attentive
forgetful, slow
its a small town
people know.
Occasionally, a ride is offered
turned down... fearfully so
for dim eyes see strangers
if a familiar voice is heard
still, rides are waved off
with a polite, 'no thanks'
Now its just a kick of a can
to fourth Street and Beaver Avenue
where the once alluring presence
of the shapely young Slovak
with enchanting eyes
once played and walked
Back then, heads turned
captured eyes stared...
appraisingly
watching her walk
watching that walk
A relishing 'Hello-Mary'
was frequently heard
prettier each Year
un-assuming
un-forgetful
its a small town
young men know
[...] Read more
poem by George Vuyakovich
Added by Poetry Lover
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