New York

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She steps through the doors,
brushing the feathery snow
off of her jacket.
She takes in her surroundings;
the marble floors,
the people
The heat
warms her enough
so that she removes her knit hat,
holding,
wringing it
in her small hands
as though it were wet.
She looks up at the large clock
squints at the Roman Numerals.
She’s early,
like always.
He’s late,
like always.
She steps away from the door
and is startled when
her black pump clicks loudly
against the marble floor.
She watches another woman walk by,
a woman
years older than she.
The woman,
walks so gracefully
in her own heels.
She glides by,
a swan swimming in a lake.
As she watches the woman
walk away,
she suddenly feels
out of place,
a mallard duck
in a lake
full of white swans.
Here she stands,
in the most elegant hotel she’s ever seen,
surrounded by
the good, the rich,
in New York, much less.
She feels intimidated.
But then she sees him.
Tall, handsome, smiling
that sweet dimpled smile
she’s seen many times before.
Her smile falters,
but only for a moment,
because he comes swiftly toward her.
He holds her hands and
speaks softly.
He glances at the
graceful woman, the swan,
chatting with other woman in secret.
“Those woman have no wildness in them,”
he states.
“Too proper.
That’s why I love you.”
She smiles once again
as she listens to her world
rain marble words,
smooth, rounded, beautiful, loving words,
from him.
He kisses her
swift and sweet
on the cheek, holds her hand, and
leads her away from the hotel
to a beautiful day in New York.





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