Closing the Shop

It is time to close the shop
where the undertow of pleasure
abruptly disappears into darkness
and what some women call the end.

The signs are simple.
The spine curls forward.
Hands pose on the lap. Feet cross
daintily at the ankles.

Wrinkles
and worried looks are all part of
the way the flock of old birds gather
waiting uninformed for death.