The new woman in town

There's a new woman in my town
She's dark, probably in love with a clown
The clown is short but knows his way down
The sorry men can only drink and frown.

She walks by the antique shop everyday
And her reflection finds its natural place
Deep dark glasses and a hat on her head,
She wears a neckline bordering on red.

Her hair gallops like phoenix fire
Her eyes radiate an ancient tale
The poets dream of painting a shadow
Where affairs end in torrential rain.

She walks home along the canal trail
The town gulps through afternoon rays
There's no clown preparing her bed
But it's a secret, she can't afford to say.