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Bought five dead butterflies in a frame
on a rainy day and carried them
out of the store. The bag
had butterflies on it, a purple bow
tying its handles together
after the lady had said the packaging
"must needs be pretty".
I, too, wanted an occasion
to say, out loud, "must needs be",
sound refined, distinguished, accomplished...
Crouched to roll up, though, my too-long jeans
into impromptu cuffs, avoid my ankles
those bad weather April deep sidewalk puddles
but most of all not trip, fall,
drown my pinned insects... And grieve.
Crossed a literary festival street,
pushed a heavy door open, you greeted
with an emerald accent, lilt tilted to rain.
Apron was tied to the beam you leaned on, you wore
your jeans cuffed too!
I caught your pub smile in contagion,
hung onto it like addiction while you hurried
to wipe off a table top
with great energetic sweeps of your left-handed rag
in time with "All you Need is Love".
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Of all known institutions, I attend only two: church, in my heart, and school, in yours. Both are subject to demolition. - Lucie Adams, 2007
It is only for poetry to know how many stanzas fit into one caress. - Lucie Adams, 2008
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