|October 2005 / Volume Six / Issue Five|
Four weddings in two days.
My job was to chauffeur
the food to each event.
I wondered which, if any,
of these marriages would
be around for a catered
40th anniversary party.
Vastly different weddings
facing grim odds.
Pondering life isn't always
a good thing while driving.
Reality came in the form of
revolving lights in the rearview.
I doubted I was speeding,
but the officer seemed to think I was.
He reached for my license
and I noticed an intricately engraved
In another place and time
I would have loved to hear his
story and watch his eyes sparkle
as he spoke of his beloved.
He returned to my van
satisfied that I am not wanted
by the law, although I did admit
to taking too much poetic license.
He laughed and finished writing my ticket.
As he handed it to me,
I stole another glance at his ring.
My mind filled with his back story.
Before I drove away, I looked at the ticket
It was blank– I turned it over to find
his cell phone number.
I drove on to my destination
sure of only one thing–
I would have preferred the ticket.
|RETURN TO OCTOBER 2005|