"hides its true age like a fan dance"
Her hair was colored burgundy,
hiding its true age like a fan dance on an afternoon breeze.
Her walk was quick.
As she laughed with the friend at her arm, the oblivious shops stood at attention.
Her lips subdued red.
Not zombie brown, but alive and cunning.
Her hips moved like a muted pendulum.
Not merely walking in tasteful slacks—but running like a ragged cloud across eucalyptus treetops.
Her blouse was sky blue.
The top buttons undone, her luxurious chest peeking around the edge of matching blue silk beneath.
Her eyes were blue as well.
Looking at her friend, looking at the street and cars, looking at me as we passed.
Took each in.
Embraced them briefly.
Marc Janssen has been writing poems since around 1980. Some people would say that was a long time but not a dinosaur. Early decrepitude has not slowed him down much; his verse can be found scattered around the world in places like Pinyon, Slant, Cirque Journal, Off the Coast and Poetry Salzburg also in his book November Reconsidered. Janssen coordinates the Salem Poetry Project, a weekly reading, the occasionally occurring Salem Poetry Festival, and was a nominee for Oregon Poet Laureate. For more information visit, marcjanssenpoet.com.