66/ that smile of hers

Then what do I like her for?
Trouble is, I don’t know.
And when she leaves, she waves
as far as the corner
and there’s that smile of hers
that comes from somewhere.
The roof tops reflect the sun.
From the leaning fence
the police tape has come undone.

I look at her on the bus;
does she know she’s less good-looking
than she used to be?
I go out with her Saturday, but not regularly.
Her clothes were scattered across the floor.