by Michael R. Burch
Once, only once,
when the wind flicked your skirt
to an indiscreet height
and you laughed,
outblushing shocked violets:
everything had changed.
Later, as you braided your hair
into long bluish plaits
the shadows empurpled,
last darting feints
we watched the sun’s long glide
knowing and unknowing.
O, how the illusions of love
await us in the commonplace
then haunt our small remainder of hours.
Published by Romantics Quarterly, Muse Apprentice Guild, Victorian Violet Press, Boston Poetry Magazine, and Poetry on Demand
Keywords/Tags: Violets, flowers, wind, skirt, blush, hair, shadows, sunset, evening, love, illusions, time, commonplace, rare