Swoosh

Paul skirted a gentle invitation
to join a girl on a front porch
passed on an oak-shaded walk
by flawlessly manicured lawns
and flowers put to bed early
on a Thursday evening.
Ellie on the porch swing
offered no second chance,
but kissed her palm, leveled it,
then blew in Paul’s direction.
Such a lovely goodbye
flew into the soupy dusk,
but was stolen by a bluejay
that cleft the red-orange clouds
on its homeward flight.


copyright © 2019 Kenneth P. Gurney

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