The towel

The towel sat on the lounger from the morning until night
But I was not quite brave enough to shift it.
I sat upon the poolside with my knuckles turning white,
Hoping for a sudden gust to lift it.

But no-one came and claimed it and the lounger stayed unused.
The second day I eyed it with a scowl.
All throughout the morning I grew less and less amused,
Till after dinner, I threw in the towel.