I had not knew about the treasure of Anaïs , until the day that Mona took us all, like children, for a walk to the park...It was one of those parks with more routes for cars than walking trails and picnic shelters all over.
We stopped for a short time to feed the ducks and utter all those oh’s and ah of city dwellers when a poor groundhog ventured too close.
Anaïs stood apart, rapt by the view of an old cage and a poor peacock with his bald tail. An old captive, all alone, feeble image of his own past beauty.
It was soon after the trip to the park (Nim was there as well), that I caught the trace of this poem on her book with shopping lists and to do’s.

Around you, I am the peacock
parading my feathered beauty
just to see you gaze
and savor your look as soft silk hugging me.