I
The deep-set beady eyes
in the shrunken narrow head
the bushy tail, trimming the collar
of the classy pelt, put her off at first.
II
The mannequin wears it well
struts back and forth in her thoughts
lures her closer, urges her to stroke its fineness.
III
Brooding only briefly, sacrilegious musings reign:
dismiss trapped animals, forget broken paws
ignore the clubbing death that brought
this masterpiece to life.
IV
Slipping the fur on
she endures the mustiness of camphor-balls
becomes a gloved woman sitting in a private cubicle
lined in red satin, viewing an opera with binoculars,
mink embracing her.
V
The tinkling bell announcing the arrival
of a customer in the Second Hand Shop
does not break the binding spell.
© Althea Romeo-Mark
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