It was the way spring smacked me in the face
to gather my rapt attention; then insisted
I admire the brilliant red bush thriving
before the white, block wall—a newly-leafed
birch rising above in a photographic panegyric,
of sorts, as I waited in the fast food franchise
drive-thru lane. It appeared so wildly unreal
that I, enchanted, wondered if this was
the real life and not some errant but lovely
thought: some girls stood and walked toward
the embossed waste receptacle, moving through
the florescent light as ardently stable surfaces
collected suddenly around some
surprisingly mobile, skeletal planes.
rdking