To _________________, with love.
No lilies, you know, nor peacocks; it was
not a Lalique gem but rather the wholesome
loveliness of spring when you came
that day. The bitter wind
had temporarily left the garden, green,
untidy, and night fell, the sky cloudless
like a sudden revelation. I knew
there must be some truth in such
matchless beauty. It is strange, now,
to meet you here. The light
seems changed by your eyes, as then -
when you close the door on me
I will be sitting here staring, the fire
gone cold. There will be left
not even a handful of stars.
Copyright © 2012 by Peter V.