Sliver Moon and Yellow Freesias

we looked up at a sliver moon of silver

higher than the sky, more distant than

this day, and bolder than us all


holding a bunch of yellow freesias

perfumed and rich, grown with the scent

of childhood’s soil, stronger than us all


a momentary hesitation blinded by the sun

the crossing as cars darted in front careless

of us, of moon, of scent, almost overrun


the day slows down as traffic recedes leaving

silent dusk enclosing us in a vase full

of flowers and a resolute pause, a comma




Copyrighted by the author

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