We liked the soft Mexican music
Wafting our way from a garage
Across the street. We used to
Stop at a restaurant in Banning
After having one of her
Medical examinations up
Over the mountain in Loma Linda
Where the best were said
To work; so it was strange to
See them fail again and again.
The music though was nice.
We knew the nurses and
Waitresses. Susan would
Forget but I'd remind her,
Standing at the side porch
Listening. Looking up at
How the sky had turned a
Pale shade of blue. She was
My great passion. I often
Wondered as she paused to
Listen, what I was to her.
