Spring Salmon Lady

She proudly dons her full-length fur

            As she hobbles down the street,

Unaware all eyes are  staring

            On this day of record heat.

Consumed in her own unraveling

            Oblivious to other’s lives.

Both time and luck have left her

            The Coat, her only prize.

Perhaps she was a princess once

            Or a housewife with no ring.

Maybe she loved a poor man only,

            Or paramoured with a king.

Her life now like a salmon:

            She walks against the tide…

Her goal to make it home again,

            Decaying, with bursting pride.

Red lips on whitewashed wrinkles,

            She walks determined yet unstable

Wrapped in the well-earned dignity

            Of her memories and sable.