Today on the road
I received three blown
kisses from an old woman
with a strawberry red
wig sitting slightly askew
on her titlting brow.
She had been waiting
to fit like a pin
into the close-knit weave
of traffic. I slowed
and gave her the two-finger
sideways bow. She erupted
into an explosion of strawberry
gladness, screeching out
and sending the blown kisses through
her blue-glazed windows
to me.
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