any muse will do

[from a second wave – poetry]

at the back of her neck
her hair is cut short
exposing the gentlest
and most delicious part
and her smile, though aimed away
is infectious
and her walk
and black shirt
falling off one shoulder
oh, but she’s young
they often are
these sirens
as she sips the coffee
and drops a few coins
in the thank you box
and gone
without a glance or care
towards my typing character
in some suburban library
tapping and internetting
and writing poems
to her

8-20-14

image: Il baffi di Anna (anna’s mustache), SCassandraALverde, creative commons usage