EMPTY BED BLUES

On the way home this morning I sat at a railroad crossing, admiring the multicolored tags of anonymous Graffiti artists that adorned boxcars and tankers as they flickered in and out of my high beams. The car rocked and swayed in a buffeting wind as if I were riding the rails myself. Russet leaves swirled and skittered by, sometimes hanging for a moment on windshield wipers that swiped at a chilly drizzling rain, and the flashing red of the crossing lights made the moment seen almost surreal like something out of the Twilight Zone.

Thoughts of lounging on high thread-count sheets were running through my mind when the soulful voice of Sheba Potts-Wright ("I Need A Cowboy To Ride My Pony", "Slow Rolling") drifting from the speakers reminded me that silky sheets were all that waited for me. Damn, it's cuddle-up weather and there's no hunk of warm man-flesh waiting at the house! I usually revel in the freedom of my singleton status but nothing beats shared body heat on a cold and dreary day.

But I can wait for Tuesday, when both Sweet Thang and I have a day off. Ah well, I can always dream a little dream until the real Sweet Thang graces my empty bed.......