My Girl

 

A horn hoots
declaring the presence of a shimmering streak of girlified purple.

She has arrived.

Every time I see it, the van is more like a picture of her passion for life; satin flowers line the windscreen, their electric  illumination redolent of  celebration, the interior displays a pink patchwork of fiddly fun and fluffy fake fur, a giant print of pouting lips kisses the rear.

If it was mine I’d describe it as irony,
mimicking a wry shrug, a  humorous smile,
but this vehicle tells a cute tale of the brave miles
that have sped her to rejuvenation.

Long legs emerge, and a strong body follows.
Her added height has no extra centimetres;
they remain the same
as back when

sanity retreated.

These days she stands so high.

I’m dazzled by her beauty
and the bright summer that sizzles in her vicinity.
How she shines…
the sun has abandoned its home in the sky
to sparkle in the depths of her eyes
and bask in the highlights of her burnished hair.

A shadow creeps up from behind,
briefly entering my mind

then she hugs me
and gives me that smile,
and I know this is real.

She savors every moment of her new life,
and I savor every moment she is with me.

The Daily Post #Savor

©Jane Paterson Basil