Bromley South to West Malling

The schoolgirl at Bromley South sang to my spirit

like a Siren, though remaining as

resolutely mute as any teenager.

Seventeen, perhaps, and cool on a

hot day in blue and white and plaid,

her olive skin alive with something

Mediterranean in her blood, her

bare legs showing the signs of

industrious shaving as she

artlessly relaxed after a long school day with

a beauty rarely found

beyond billboards,

and a truth that beauty exists

to be enjoyed.

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Comments

  • Linda Munn  On April 9, 2011 at 2:29 pm

    Very descriptive.

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