Books have covers.
Maybe people do, too.
It was a chilly February day.
She was young, tall, brisk.
Her blonde hair (over roots)
was pulled back in a scunchied blob.
The white linen shorts
focused attention on the tanned calves.
Classy sweater thrown across the shoulders
spoke their own message.
To top it all off,
the silver Mercedes triad
confirmed, “Money.”
My first reaction was compassion.
So much to experience, so many lessons ahead,
some hard to learn.
Being raised in privilege and plenty
can sure muddy the waters
and make the stream harder to cross.
Maybe the story started in her book
already has its pain and struggle.
How would I know?
Books have covers.
Maybe I peeped out from under
mine to sneak a peek under hers today.
biggerpieces 