Bridge of Lions

A walk across the Bridge of Lions
a blustery, gray, Fall day with
wind whipping as the cars pass
and two teen boys on bicycles
rush by us on the narrow path,
sullen look upon their face
matches the lowering skies!
We are on the south side of the bridge
looking off into the waters where there’s
little demarcation between the chop
and sky.
It’s a watercolor in shades of gray.
Reaching the other side we find
no dirth of traffic in the ancient little town,
fascinating even when there’s no sun!
Maybe more so…

El' s House of Beauty

The concentration...
showing frown lines
furrowing,
I was less certain than she
of the enterprise’s outcome,
and so I sat
intensely waiting
for the product of her making
inside I was quaking.
Scarcely looking toward the mirror
I heard the scissors sssssuk
and piles of hair fell from their blades,
and floating in the air in
moats of sunlight through
the dusty window there just
over my left shoulder where
I wish I had stayed! Out on the street!
But on she snipped and now with hairdryer
and a brush she blew my
hair, now
a much shorter mane into
a svelte and stylish ‘do,
and I confess that staring back
at me
was someone so brand new
I’ll have to get used to
as I pass by
the reflection in the glass.
How such a different person can emerge
from just one hours pass
through El’s House of Beauty!