Sky View from the Q.E. II

Dark gray squalls
glide off of Hamilton Bay
trailing snow.
like old time, proper ladies,
their daintily booted feet
stirring up a wake
of froth, silken finery.

One behind the other
they file toward the escarpment
dropping crystal lace hankies
in coy consent.

*I am approachable,*
the squall ladies whisper,
the hour is late and
my mood is melancholy.

Their cold breath caresses the cheek.

Copyright © 2002 Patricia Cresswell