

Passed by her on the way home from the lake. She sat on the side of the road, torn denim jacket, jeans rolled at the cuff, and barefoot. Oblivious - her back to the traffic. Blistered thumb thumbing through a magazine. Not a care in the world; except maybe about what she was reading or the wild orange poppy delicately placed behind her ear. She'll be hitching again by sun-down, giving her thumb time to peel, a sunburn from being stretched out too long in the sun. |
| Wild Poppy By Janine Margiotta |
