Ride the Red Rocket...High Park to Sherbourne

 

 Ride the Red Rocket...High Park to Sherbourne
By Arlene Levin 
© 2019
 

 

People sit quiet in their dreams.
The old lady is in black…
except for a brilliant white hat that covers her silver hair.
Black gloved hands are folded soft over a black bag that rests on her lap.
High black boots stop below her nylon covered knees
that protruded past the hem of her black cloth coat.
Wire frame glasses sit firmly on her nose.
Her face is set in a downward turn.
Clear eyes stare forward.
Her mouth?
An inverted smile.

Beside her sits a young man.
His skin-head tattooed with writhing snakes,
ear pierced 7 times on the side facing me.
His tight black leather jacket tops matching pants
that rise boldly out of Doc Martin Boots.

The old woman sits as stone  
partially chipped from the quarry.
I thought, “what must she be thinking?”

The train stops.
The old woman stands.
As she eases by the young man
her coat opens just slightly
exposing a red satin garter belt
holding up her old lady stockings.