Literary Magazine

Dame Jere | Gayle Bell

Still small voice saw him first
There be angels
Ma’am would you mind putting these things on your walker
I don’t get around so good
The attaché had faded green party stickers
Mondale vs. some obscure nemesisHe offered his half a turkey sandwich
To a woman trying to sleep
on the anti-vagrant benches near the AA center
He gestured to the crowd gates set up on Olive St
think they’re going to have the pride parade down here ma’am
I laughed  I doubted it
You going to the parade tomorrow
been there got the shirt
I’m too old
well he preened
raising a tiny bit of his shorts
with a practiced dainty hand
to reveal a pair of pink panties
frillier than the ones I was wearing
I’ve been asked to be on a float
as we slow walked to the rail,
he regaled me
he queen of the regalia
satins pearls taffeta
unforgiving in this lone star heat.
The train sound broke me from his enchanted tales
and like my momma useta say
just cause you’re an angel
you don’t have to be a fool;
since I was neither, I told him I had to dash.
He grabbed his belongings, thanked me for the assist.
I curtsied and wished him a gentle journey,
he blew me a kiss
in times past would have held a jeweled glove.

Gayle Bell‘s work has been featured in numerous anthologies, print and online publications.