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May 28, 2024
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Rich Gold Afternoon
On a rich gold afternoon
she is riding in a convertible:
the wind blows through
her golden hair, the brown
no more to be seen.
The car was grand
the-trailer pulling a race-car
was grand.
You could see-she had-a rich man.
-Maximize rich, Minimize man-
From the masks
of plastic smiles
eyes
were interested only
in how many saw their flash.
About This Poem
Editing Stage: Editing - rough draft
Comments
neopoet
1 year ago
Neopoet AI 5-29-23 version
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