Long ago
when the world was younger,
before smart
phones and MP3s,
people sang
songs and read books.
On one of
those days a young woman was wandering in her garden reading a book of poetry.
She paused
to pick a few bright red-orange petals from a bed of Flanders poppies and she placed
them on the page she had just been reading.
When she
looked up, she saw a man approaching.
She closed
her book and went to meet her love.
Years later
when the children were tucked into their beds,
the woman
pulled a book from the shelves in the sitting room to read a few poems.
When she
opened the book a few dusky lavender poppy petals fell out onto the floor.
They
crumbled in her fingers as she tried to pick them up.
When she
looked up, she saw a man standing in the doorway.
She closed
her book and went to meet her love.