TWO SHOT

She had dozed,
Shortly after Waterloo,
Squirming down in her seat,
Hips alongside hips,
Crossing her arms,
Hands rucked under,
Crossing her ankles,
Leather slip-shoes slipping off,
Coaxed by the jazz-like timpani,
Of the rails,
Allowing secrets,
Under eye-lids,
Opposite,
He saw a girl,
Inclined to show her legs,
Unencumbered by his thoughts,
He too dozed.

© 2024  R Frank Wilson