Cherry Lipstick
I passed an orchard of apple trees today,full blossom, the grey sky somehow
enhancing the colours of pinks and lilacs.
We had both remarked how the roads
in the overnight rain looked like
a thousand weddings had taken place.
I watched you take your case,
you wheeled it into the departure lounge.
I didn't go in, I've done a million departures.
As I drove away, I watched a plane come in to land.
Last night, you laughed and I took a picture
of you and Pierre outside the café
the lights were shining, the tide was high,
we walked off a meal, along the pier
the light drizzle causing puddles and we
dear fools that we are, we smiled.
Years ago, I remember meeting my father,
I was in the crazy years, it was August
and the sun beat down, I wore a little top
that barely covered with ballet shoes,
my father never really got, he was used to staid
and I was an education that latin verbs never solved.
My father has gone on that journey, the one
where returns are not on offer and I wonder
if he recalls, the august of my summer.
I passed an apple orchard today, it made me think
my father loved his orchards, he grew so many things
plum and apple, cherry and pear,
he trained raspberries and loganberries,
made his asparagus beds and wove the wires
that made the wisteria bloom.
The spring rain and breeze
have changed the landscape of roads,
somehow, they only enhance the colours
and a cherry lipstick is always best.
Poetry by Elle
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Written on 2015-05-03 at 20:39
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