I am her, she is me. Toss the jackets into the backseat. Windows rolling down. Two lanes; geese in the park, a long yellow bus drops off the approved miniatures. It’s afternoon on an autumn weekday. We stop behind the flashing red lights and octagonal sign while all school children decamp. She salutes me secretly with a two-eyed wink. Flowing on, traffic moves. There’s a beautiful wild-woman riding a bicycle, keeping pace with our car.
K. Shawn Edgar