she's a spry forty, or maybe fifty.
hard to tell
with the work done.
sweating on
the stair master
with her yoga pants snug,
untorn.
everything is new.
the house.
the paint.
the cars in the driveway.
the lights,
the rugs.
the pool.
he leans on his cane
and thinks
about wife one,
not two.
it's the last hurrah for him,
but she's
just getting started.
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