The Girl In A Miniskirt

Saturday afternoon I am reading the paper in central park. She always arrives half past two some times closer to three. To feed the birds and it never rains. she is pale with dark hair, it is a milky paleness. Jet black hair. Maybe oriental. I assume because of her muscular thighs and straight forward Bering she has many admirers I should think. Making eye contact we always do never putting one off for the other. Perhaps because of my age and her youth. Our conversations are frank as if we are counselors for each other able to discuss it all from each fresh new perspective. We have come to appreciate each other as well no obligations or commitments. Today she asks about the eye, I lost years ago I explain that is why months ago I ask her to move over to the end of the bench it helps me with perspective and depth when we speak to each other. Today I ask her why she always wears a mini skirt. I go on to say that when she moves her legs back and forth I can not concentrate on the paper. Smiling she says, I would not have come except for the fact that the animals are here all around you with nothing to feed them they stay. A squirrel runs along the bench, she opens her legs wider without thinking to feed it and I'm thinking what a wonderful world it can be. She is very colorful I have always thought.