Mr and Mrs Proper Smith
are at the gallery
and the next work in line
that confronts them
is a **** woman with green leaves
to conceal her privates

Mrs Smith moves away
with quiet and dignity
but Mr Smith lingers, eyes on the leaves
Mrs Smith clears her throat
and enquires politely:
What are you waiting for, dear?

And comes swiftly
the reply, equally polite:
*Autumn