she walked, pausing at Jack Sprat's.
not really hungry, more following
an urge.
she knew he was at work today,
lights for the new Quantum Record Shop,
and all she needed was a glimpse,
maybe a smile.
she didn't want to be kissed,
yet, but it was coming.
her short skirt advertised
her tan, strong tennis legs,
and she knew he'd
take a look, maybe,
she hoped, stopping
a moment
to talk
on Franklin Street
at noon.
Mary Angela Nangini's poems celebrate the richness of life and love. From the city to cottage-country and the roads in between, Nangini explores the changing seasons of her varied region. (This book will soon be reprinted in hard cover.)
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