Late to be out

A MISS rolled along the street, decidedly waxy,
LURCHed into a nearby bloke, gave him a
SAUCY grin, and greeted him all
SHOWY.  He gently smiled, sent her home in a taxi.

Ordinary Graces

KNEAD each day’s dough and
DALLY in the slowing slips of time. Mine
AMAZEment from ordinary veins of rock. Mirage
IDEALs will have you blinking and next you know it’s all gone.

Empty Spaces

CEDAR chest of records in the attic:
RUMBAs, Bossa Nova, sheets of sound,
WIDOW enjoyed the listening, but her husband queued them up.
TITHE of memory has tripled, the present will soon be tithe.