by the time I got there
the oranges were fallen. rotting
on the pavement, spring sprung and
it was already too late, and besides
you were all tired.
but besides that. there's tea in the garden
and christine turned the cards. and
still burning bright, even feverish
in the sunlight and her scarf.
kevin grinning in a kilt and making
twirling his mustache, it's
hard not to laugh for both of those
sharp, tired wits.
anyway, this is just to send
and virtual strawberries
and hot tea and sunny days
for all the days remaining
and the places off the road.