She flashed across his universe,
all swing skirt and sandals
and red hair and convertible—
where she slung her purse
into the back seat before
sliding behind the wheel.
Tonight’s cowboy, hopes dashed,
stands in a parking lot
lit by a sputtering streetlight,
watching the glowing taillights
disappear down the empty road,
hunching his shoulders
against the echo of mocking laughter
streaming from the heavens
like a falling, failing star.
Published in Cider Press Review, Volume 15, Issue 3.
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