Wild flower on asphalt

Agraulis_vanillae_at_Isla_Margarita.jpg

Lying in the middle of prairie flowers and wild
grasses-better than in the road-and how much do I owe
for loss of time money and how much it cost
in the long run. Sometimes we mourn and then find out
we were holding the knife that cut down our past

When we met I was in a shop buying a chicken, writing
a poem on the back of a grocery list. I want that mystique
that kept you coming around. A rose died-so what
you gave it to me-so what. I can buy dozens of flowers
but you-there is just one-you fell asleep on my breast

Our love is not like the others, cool as Eskimo nights
our love is crispy like chalupas – with a creamy center
driving through the days and weeks, trying not to
drown ourselves. I painted you with a touch of noir, making you
over with the look of Bogart I needed to navigate life

I get blue when I see what has become of you
so far from the happy times I barely recognize
the boy from 1989. Did someone do this to you
(did I ) or did you let it happen?
Every happiness flown away like fritillaries

 

*****

The Gulf fritillary or passion butterfly (Agraulis vanillae), photo by The Photographer

10 thoughts on “Wild flower on asphalt

  1. When I read some poets I am aware that all the words are just wrapping empty space within. With you I know there is something important in there. I might not know what it is, but I know it is there.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. I’ve read your poem a few times and listened to two different recordings, and find it totally intriguing. I find something new each time I read/hear it and can say it is certainly thought-provoking. Your readers’ voice is lovely and soothing to listen to. Deep emotion embedded n this one.

    Liked by 1 person

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