midevening blue convertible ride...

The air and the smell and even the taste of the midevening
came paddling smooth on the turf
as I rode the convertible...
the people had come out too
in jackets...wraps...sports shoes...
and young moms pushed perambulators...
the old man walked the footwalk with his setter...
and my blue midevening convertible had a song
of a self indulgent vagabond...
like a stallion the machine ran
whizzing past coffee joints and glowsigns...
the traffic lights blinking reflections pasted
on the roads...intersections...dots red green and yellow rested...
a brief too momentary makeover...
midevening convertible blue rider
that's me...

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