As I briskly shopped for groceries
I paused to tap the cantaloupe,
gauging the freshness of each fruit.
I saw you approach, lumbering shoulders
and sloped spine, your eyes slowly climbing
from the top of my boots to the hem of my skirt.
“I like your stockings,” you offered.
I raised an eyebrow and replied, “Thanks.”
Selecting my cantaloupe, I smiled
and placed it carefully in my cart.
Wheeling around the tangerines,
I waved to you over my shoulder
and quickly departed.