Toby* Poem by Morgan Michaels

'Hi', she said, offering her hand. 'Mademoiselle Jeanette'.
Toby bowed. How pretty she was!
Mademoiselle Jeanette continued:
'Are you a clown or an acrobat'?
Toby hesitated.
'Um, I'm in sales'. he finally replied.
'Wonderful'!
'Whaddabout you'?
'I'm an equestrienne', she said, accenting the final syllable.
Toby nodded. It made sense. Totally. The word encapsulated her. She was definitely an equestrienne, and could be nothing else, ever. He hadn't the least idea what an equestrienne was, but it made perfect sense.
She looked like she was falling in love. Her slipper toed an arc in the sawdust, before her. It was everywhere, the sawdust and made a soft crunch when
stepped on.
'Oh, don't', he thought....he liked her, after all.