The green dress she wore
They say she was an airplane
splayed in the sun baked sand
emerging from a peanut shell from an overcrowded beach
She wore a small stream as well
the grassy banks huddling to it boutique
somewhere ahead an imagined waterwheel
beside some envisaged family picnic
she was the plane
a few seconds away from takeoff
seconds that were to us many years
The restaurant opened as we pulled up
to investigate the small stream outside it
mossy driveway was a shy smile
echoed by the staff hurrying to set tables
In their blessed restaurant
She was the root growing all through
thick and robust stretching on and on
holding everything under the creek together
Families stop to toss in coins as if a wishing well
For luck she was
and what is luck but a signpost
to some destination better than current abodes
to some species of glory yet unfelt
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