DUE AT LANGLEY
'This sweater never fits right. I hate it.' The girl
saying that was passing by - 'He's due at Langley
at 9:25; that's two hours away, isn't that in Virginia?
How am I supposed to get there in time?' Ancient
flowers never last : they drop their leaves in a
pantomime of doubt and their petals in despair.
-
The intentions of the best of us are always right.
She'll make it there somewhere, I feel; but I know
that's incorrect. The flourescence of the overhead lights
here does nothing for her face - sorry morsel, sad to be.
I figure, like a waterfall dripping, she'll simply use the
phone and text away about something her boyfriend
at Langley would understand. 'I love you, but I'll
be about three hours late. Am leaving now.'
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