a sunflower
speckled in
so many colours
filtered light
swaying on the twinkling
glass of your voice
laughing
like raindrops
as we share a joke
and one too many ‘oh’s
You’ve run your finger-
tips over the frayed edges
and smoothed the notes of this
tapestry- One written in
half-hearted grays and blues
of the early afternoons
so often dragging through
honeyed Georgian air.
Let us forget the storms
on your other horizons
for a while,
and sway back again to
that last heat and
smile.
and finally
You’ll whisper
(like
lilac and vermilion
)
for us to fall into languid
final rays.
Dream sweet,
doll,
there will be
another day.