You whispered so gently when you tucked violets behind my ear
as we writhe on a bed of windswept  poppy petals,      the earth moved
the sun shone on your face whilst the moon dipped in our sighs,

that was the last time I felt your warmth  aside me
yet in the stirring chill of unfurled dark November mornings,
I can still smell the wafting scent of wildflowers in my hair