Contentment

She does not possess a car, nor does she walk.
She rides around lazily on her beautiful old lavender beach cruiser.
Her long sun dress settles on her rich body,
her floppy hat; a crown.
Her red painted toes bask in the glinting sun,
her long curls ballroom dance in the breeze.
When she slows to a stop
it is only because
her bike is tired,
she does not clench her fingers on the brakes,
she lets her tire's slowly roll,
gently hopping off
as the cruiser comes to a sleepy stop.
 Her beach cruiser rests in the cool grass.
She glides through the park,
the grass squishing between her toes,
the summer sun shining through the trees,
the smell of smoky barbeque,
the sounds of laughing and love.
She eats and drinks.
Slowly, savoring every bite,
smiling after each sip.
She bites into a crescent moon of watermelon,
grinning as the juice drips down her chin. Savoring the crisp cool fruit
as its meat
crumbles on her tongue.