Wednesday, May 29, 2013

Not for You, Just at You

Peeking sweetly over 
the patches of low 
clover that swept to meet 
the edge of the road,

a few taller slender necks 
of green stood bobbing in 
the breeze—each blind
gust casually animating 
their lazy pretty heads.

Part of me lept 
and thought he wanted
to seize and give them all to you—

but the rest just 
enjoyed allowing 
the simple white 
and yellow shock

of coy daisies to go on peeking
bobbing waving wagging
nodding—just

like you do,
just like 
you do, just 
like—hello, 
yes sir, thank
you, right 
ma'am—you
do, you do, 
you do.

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