Fresh faced, alluring,

digitally re - mastered she posed in the photo

at the platform of her trolleybus.

Grey summer uniform - clippie.

"Hold on very tight," she seemed to say.

Would that I could, but sixty years have gone their way.

 

I would have been a boy then,

and on a journey together

she could have taken me to paradise

for a minimal price.

 

A rack of tickets, a punch that hung and

swung with her sylvine flow.

A reassuring bell that rang with her thumb.

"There you are, sonny," she seemed to say.

"Will you be going all the way?"