Roses
'Here are roses', she said.
'I picked them for you especially.
They match the colour of your heart.'
I looked at the crimson blossoms
And felt the colour of the deepest red
Invade every corner of my being.
How could see look into my heart and
See, without knowing me, just what I needed?
Without a touch she had tamed my
Wild and broken heart, healing me
In a flash of red.

February 2, 1999