The widow turned the air on, closed her door
against the summers’ sounds and cooling breeze.
She had no friends or allies anymore
and family were mere shards of memories.
But sometimes, like a captured damsel, she
would stand beside her window for a while.
Her neighbor sitting on his porch would see
her. He'd turn her way, and tip his hat and smile.
It might have crossed her mind she could regain
some confidence in going out to meet
this friendly gent, but at her window pane
she stayed as life outside breathed in the heat.
Then risking nothing, she would turn away
and never know the scent of that one day.