Paean

A love song to a woman on the subway.

A woman on the street stops me in my tracks.

Three women, one room, and work I’m not getting done.

Where am I supposed to look when she crosses her legs?

An unremarkable woman on the train. Except.

Twenty minutes, three feet, and not a single glance.

I wouldn’t like her. But she’s fun to look at.

Two women at my gym who make working out genuinely dangerous.

Every shade of brown, from boot to lip.

I saw her on the subway. I couldn’t not photograph her.