the whistle

the man
in the ditch,
with a shovel
in hand,
whistles at the woman
walking by,
spirited
in her summer
dress, her head
held high.
she doesn't
turn to look,
nor does the man
expect her to do
so. the whistle
for both of
them is a good
thing, that's
all it is
and nothing more.
neither wanting
that desire
to ever stop.