Driving the Old Ladies.(Poem)

 
DRIVING THE OLD LADIES 
 
   She looked at me 
   with the straps 
   of her bag in her hands, 
   beer glass empty 
   on the table 
   under the window. 
 
   But then her mate wanted 
   one for the road 
   so we all had to wait, 
   bellies filled 
   from the sausage sizzle, 
   sun still on the horizon. 
 
   This gave the lady 
   with the walking stick 
   time to ask if I could 
   take her too ... I 
   could've gone another schooner 
   when they all stood up. 
 
   We crossed the railway lines 
   into a warm summer evening. 
   Into the long shadows 
   of Friday nights 
   when music and love 
   puts stars into the sky. 
 
   I wasn't always good 
   she whispered in my ear 
   laughing as old ...