Blonde as summer on the Cape,
A Vineyard wanna-be. Enough
money to dress well, eat well;
just enough panache to know
it isn’t enough to meet the guy
who owns a yacht, pays a tailor
to stitch his shirts and jackets.
She sails well, knows fore
from aft but say futtock
and she is offended. Awash
much of the time. Vacation
the fulcrum of every conversation,
every shopkeeper sees her
coming. Her Visa and MasterCard
their most intimate friends.
This poem appears in Poems for the Writing, in the “SPIRIT OF NAMES” chapter. Used by permission of Rina Terry.