The Ghost In The Lyft Poem by Holly Gardner

The beautiful dark woman got into the shared Lyft apologizing for making us go downtown.

I live downtown.

Her business jacket had been left somewhere. But she buckled the seatbelt across the lap of her dark grey trousers.

Really, I never go there she said dark hair swishing.

Okay thanks. I thought. Then I tuned them both out and sat quietly in the backseat.

The beautiful woman and the driver talked a bit until we were about halfway. It seemed halfway.

Then suddenly the dark-haired businesswoman began to chatter like a broken android from a 70's tv show.

Did the driver notice? I looked to see as the disjointed communication continued. It was getting louder and garbled.

Try to change the subject please? And the driver did.

The robot-like chatter slowed. And then we were at her stop. She got out talking normally...

But she was a short, blonde woman in jeans.