were we of champagne
and brie, golden sunflowers
and rain showers Painting
rainbows over a cornflower

sky. Both flying high as
a condor, not fonder of another.
We only had each other. Blooming
a woodland garden. Didn't see

you harden under a diamond
stitched quilt of December
snow. Remember, carrying the guilt
like a bucket to and fro. Autumn

leaves must fall. In the crimson
with limbs in and hair tangled
in the fire. Both heading for the
funeral pyre.