After the leaf filled pool had drained
there was still the linger of her smile
for the rotund boy attempting to sun
in a day of intermittent showers that
threatened to ruin her coif into damp
grey curls redolent of Grecian ruins.
He was a gladiator once, pride of her
loins, conquering all that she loathed.
Now her blue deck shoes curl and she's
chilled in the shadow of a low arc'd sun.
When she moved in feline grace, the mind
only thought of nails, orange came normal
against the brown drift of floating leaves.