The Cocktail Party

The sunset accents marble columns
on the portico of an opulent mansion.
In black tie and tails, William, cornered
by a fellow investor, half listens as his eyes scan
the elegant new auto, apparently abandoned
by its driver who sped to a stop an hour ago,
raced into the house and still has not returned.

Business is such a dreadful bore these days
and is hardly the topic of conversation
he cares to pursue at the moment,
Especially with Niles who could bore a bore.

The sun’s rays up-light wispy clouds
and cast a warm amber glow
to that in-between time just after dusk.
In the fading light, the auto shines a rich blue-black
and the sound of the idling motor is
like the soft purr of a panther
or Sara when she’s ready.

He excuses himself and hurries into the house.
Niles follows  behind him, like a damn puppy.
Sara is making her usual entrance,
down the grand but somewhat pretentious staircase
that she insisted upon ‘saving’ when they had the house renovated,
even though they rarely use it since the lift was installed.

Her black silk dress, covered in beaded fringe,
is the perfect foil for her stylishly boyish figure.
Her short black bob partially obscures one lushly lashed doe eye,
exaggerating her perpetually flirtatious countenance.

She  seems to float past him without so much as a nod;
takes the hand of a tall stranger who pauses
to help with her wrap, then whisks her out the door
to drive away in the mystery car.