A banana tree, odd to see
in this clammy town.
It overhangs the rickety
Filbert steps:
wet wood rambling down
towards Julius Castle --
closed for now -- recently
bought, I think
by some old coot; he must have wooed
his prom date there.
Her shoulders glowed white
in a mink stole.
A drink and a dance. The lily corsage
wilted decades ago.
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