I often softened my hours waiting for her
By reading Cummings or Plath
Or other dead poets.
Still, she took her time arriving.
Usually dropped off a block down where mom and dad didn't see her
Getting out of her Big Brother's car.
A '71 Pontiac.

It was blue, like her eyes, and noisy, missing a muffler.
Like her...
But I waited.
Anticipating her secret roar and rumble.
Just waiting to crawl into the back-seat of those Pontiac eyes.