It's Just Good Form

A Parisian in old New York believes she's Mary Poppins

supported by her billowing black umbrella, a gymnast

in the air. Three-inch pumps angled in elegance

in parallels and perpendiculars, the air underneath

cushions her flight. One must always avoid the puddles

of cobbles stone streets. It's just good form.

Collar flipped upright in stiff exuberance, hair

tucked under net and pin, she looks ahead with graceful

intention—as if she will not touch the ground.

Convincing.

One hand, gloved in form-fit black, holds strong

the shaft—her only structure here. The other hides

deep in an oversized pocket, keeping her secrets

to herself.

Instead of walking on water, she opts for air.

I can't help but have faith in her mysterious magic.

2/20/10