PTSW: Aural Transport

 

Transportation

Switching stations at 75 mph

I catch just a bit,

a short musical phrase.

Just the last few measures

of the Supremes 

put my bare feet

on wet poolside pavement.

I smell the chlorine.

I enjoy a morsel of moon pie 

& swig from 

an ice-flecked bottle of RC.

And turning with her 

from the concession stand

-- ah yes -- 

soak in the reflected warmth 

of that yellow bikini 

one more time --

I know its occupant

and I 

are much changed 

50 years later. 

But I dance, 

dance, 

dance

with the daffodil.

by Terrell Shaw