Book of Mary III

For the first time since

leaving her Scarborough home,

Mary had a dream—

a morbid premonition

of a straw hat drenched in blood.

The morning arrived,

its scarlet sunrise piercing

through her room curtains.

Mary woke in a cold sweat,

heartbeat like a timpani.

Packing in a haze,

her artistic pilgrimage

reaching its ending

amidst the sea of car horns—

Mary hopped into her Lyft.

"J.F.K," she said.

Then, passing Columbus Park

she saw the drummer

being held up at gunpoint.

Mary left her Lyft behind.

R.L.P. Auriga

Hempstead, New York