magic mall lady

almost immediately, I concluded 

she was a storybook character 

who had wandered from

the pages of a wonderful fat tome – 

(or perhaps, she was cast out 

by a dastardly sorcerer)

for though, at first glance, 

she looked as humdrum 

as the rest of the tuesday 

afternoon aging mallsters, 

she wore highly mysterious

– likely magical – little red boots that 

(when she clicked them together)
would dance all through the town

(or so those boots implied)

but, for now, she sat down 

quietly – shyly, even – 

on the mall bench beside me

naturally, I couldn't take my eyes  

off of those little red boots –

as my mind began 

flipping and thumbing 

madly through rhymes: 

searching for boots – little red boots – 

(in those far away lines)

and a broom – a twig broom 

strong enough to hop on 

and fly . . . . . .

loop-the looping

through the sky

backwards through the sky 

and then . . . . . . 

and then . . . . . .

when, after a while, 

she stood up to leave – 

she flashed a smile 

like a bolt of pink petunias . . . . . .

and was gone. 

note:  posted for Poets United.

photo:  Pink Petunias - W. Bourke 

© 2015 Wendy Bourke