Poem: The Gray Dress

She’s the woman in the gray dress
While others wear spring’s vibrant colors
In a crowd of bright eyes and peppy steps
Her hazel eyes purposely gaze lower

She seems accustomed to the city life
Late subways, packed sidewalks and steaming vents
Speeding taxis, sewer stink and bleating horns
You doubt if any of it upsets

She’s forsaken an umbrella
Even on such a rainy day
Her dark hair to be damp all evening
But it doesn’t affect her deliberate way

If you’re lucky, she’ll let her eyes meet yours
Briefly, in candlelight, from across the bar
The kind of place with shoe-warped tile
And steam beer served in jars

The barman says she’s usually by herself
And seems none-the-less content
“Best admired from afar, son
Doubt she’s lookin’ for a gent”

She’s the woman in the gray dress
She doesn’t care how your heart skips
And when her leather boots carry her out the front door
No words will escape your lips