A purple petunia (is it?) lies dried on the inside cover of this latest spiral notebook whose title above it just chances to be:  "Something Very Like:  Don't Look Now,"  and I never guessed when I happened upon that title 7 days ago that we'd be...here.



(sonnet #MMMMMMCCCCXVIII)


O!  Now I'm scared.  For since the minute's stale
Touch, long past, when our eyes first met, to thence
That kiss he pressed upon my hand to fence
Lo, giving me a flowr:  Joe's in betrayl
A dream come true, so wonderful, in frail
Excuse I hes'tate to believe him hence,
Afraid to grasp what might dissolve, a sense
Of all I wanted beckning to avail.
I'm slow, but he takes that in stride as twere,
Til ah! I wrestle with this wakning cue
As if I had more I could lose in poor
'Scuse than is gone already.  Rain shrouds blue
Skies with metallic grey, and dank hours tour
While fragile rays pierce gloom, and I'd love:  you.

17Jun17a