.
We drove to the wild poppy fields,
Lost and opened under felt sun,
To picnic in solemn spent wonder
And celebrate new founded love.

Teapot rains came whispering in—
The skies blue up a clouded mood
And old mist rose in lighted eyes,
To stark sheet of uncovered brood.

We talked of one day, this day now,
As we laid with the lovelorn flowers,
A day for pictures, unmarked boxes,
How droplets grew to cold showers.

We broke down then and took leave,
Of letted time in tiers now dead—
There under cathedral glass of sun,
Our cut love smoked in poppyhead.
.