She was an actress.
She ran for office.
She married the owner of the local baseball team.
In the winter she walks her yellow dog,
wearing a watch cap and pea coat.
There are curls at the edge of the cap.
She wears glasses.
In the spring she clears the gardens,
I would like to buy her a wide-brimmed hat for summer.
A journal for her notices.
A gazebo made entirely out of election signs.
A bobble-head of her favorite player.
Instead, I deliver her mail,
slipping letters carefully into the slot
with a sigh.