Somewhere in Iowa in the cool of a morning


In the cool of the morning
She stole away
And watched the sunrise
Through the windshield of her red Corolla
At the Wal-Mart parking lot in the next town.

She left the keys in the switch
As she got out and walked toward the store.
She spent the day there, ate two meals there.
She felt the softness of the towels as she rubbed them against her face.
She sat on some furniture.
She watched fifty televisions tuned to the same channel.

No one noticed her. They just came and went like the lines at the registers.

As the day turned darker, she found a pink bicycle,
A ladies’ model with seven speeds,
One for each day.

She rode it out of the store and into the sunset.

The Corolla was long gone.

About Russ Wollman

My feet are finally in the water, and I want to keep them there.
This entry was posted in Iowa, Loneliness, Love, Uncategorized and tagged , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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