We were walking through the field,
staring out at Boston.
I was choking on the whisper
of a memory of another here.

I gathered two wild flowers
and I showed them to you:
the familar
          Queen Anne's Lace has always been my favorite,
and the new
          I don't know what this one's called,
          but it's purple and pretty.
          They're both so lovely together.

I don't think you understood that
I was talking about us.