Venus in pink

…………skies, flutter of
a silk dress on the line, the last
drops pooling on the tile for a second
before disappearing, scorched.

You wonder how it can be so hot
this early, the washing hung before the sun
can bleach it. Later, you watch the girls
on the beach saunter by

(That’s a bikini? you think, trying
not be envious of their smooth
curves, the strut, the tan
that you once upon a time

never needed. You were blond, unplucked,
a ripening strawberry hidden among the
green, a rose blooming on the stem.
The bold canter of your heart, wild dances in

moonlight.) Today, in silence, hands raw from
wringing, you follow the flight of the heron
sailing up the river at sunrise. You still
wear pink, but silk and with a slip.