I came to see you -

again.

It was raining.

Not one of those squalls

where the rain surges sideways

                                                           tidal and insistent.

No

the rain

              dissimulated

drifted down.

Sullen

as a net.

                           I was so afraid of misdirected feeling

                           I strove to deny

                           I'd come. I...

Look

eyes insisted:

foxgloves with swollen throats, blotchy octogenarians.

Nothing royal in their purple profusion, still look -

look!

Shouldn't you pick some?

                            So sullen

                            so toadstool dank.

                            So... perennially awful.

Yes

but see these emerald shards

tumbled (no doubt) to reduce litigation.

How strange

to see waste decoratively scattered

in such a place.

Is it meant to be mulch or mock lawn?

Or both?

Green to subdue green

or a bowls club member's last affectation.

Don't you find it amusing? Ironic? Recyclables for the expired. Ha!

My mind         folded arms          turned its back          walked away.

                              I brought you

                              a gift

                              warmed with the sweet, salt scent of skin.

                             It is all

                             in the end any of us

                             can offer.