Friday, March 1, 2013

Girl on a Bus


For my dear sister  Dorothy -


Girl on a Bus

A few people
all together on a bus,
each alone.
I sit by a window
on the first of the seats
facing forward.
A girl gets on,
sits in front of me,
facing the aisle,
so I see her profile.
Pretty, in her
early twenties.
She turns to me,
“I’m going to
a job interview.”
She’s a little nervous.
“What do you think
of how I’m dressed?”

Having permission,
I lean back,
and look her over
from head to toe.
I sit up and tell her
she looks fine,
but that  there is
one more thing
she must wear.
“What?”
I lean forward,
“A smile.”
She smiles.
“Yes, just like that.
Don’t forget.”
If only I could be there
to remind her.

© Richard Gilbert 2012

The Longest Coat


My wife and I went to a local thrift shop to make a few donations. Before leaving, we looked to see what was there. You never know when you might find a spectacular bargain. This may sound a little like winning the lottery, but, like I say, you never know. One day, in fact, we did find just such a bargain: an ivory hand-knit Italian wool coat, ankle-length. It was
as-new and worth at least several hundred dollars. The price? $15. Sandy bought it without hesitation.
            A few months later we happened to visit an upscale boutique in Carmel. As Sandy wended her way through the aisles, I followed. Behind us was another shopper, petite, dark-haired, perhaps in her mid-forties and smartly dressed. Her demeanor was serious.
            Sandy paused to look at some knitted coats. She was wearing her $15 coat and I could see that they appeared to be similar to hers. When she was done looking at them, I checked them out; they were not as luxurious as hers. There were three sizes: waist-length, which were quite expensive; hip length, more expensive; and knee length, very expensive; but no ankle length like Sandy’s.
            I went back up the aisle to take another look at something and the petite lady went past me. When I returned, she was blocking my path, so I just waited behind her. She looked at the knitted wool coats and examined each price tag. As she turned to leave, she saw Sandy’s coat and stopped. She looked slowly from ankle to neck and neck to ankle and finally just stared. Apparently she did not realize I was right behind her because I heard her softly, and slowly, syllable–by-syllable, take our Lord’s name in vain.


© Richard Gilbert 2013