Reading “Gone with the Wind”

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Gone With The Wind

Reading “Gone with the Wind”

Her bobbed hair, 
slim legs 
lifted, stretched 
out on a 
park bench – 
brown-bagging it. 

Chewing whole wheat
bread, reading
“Gone with the Wind”
can’t see her face,
she ignores me.

She hikes her skirt,
purple-flowered silk
above her thigh’s
legs crossed.

A plastic fork fits
into her right hand,
probably homemade
salad of some kind.

Hope she drops it.
Drops it on her
skirt of silk;
perhaps the dressing
is made with oil?

Trying to sleep on a
park bench – I stare
into the mist –
suddenly despise her

That girl…
brown-bagging it,
on my property.

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