A Single Piece of Silver

With a curious morose
They look at you 
As if seeing a long-faded flower
They take pains to not stare
Lest you see pity in their eyes

With a melancholy kindness
They are polite
As if you are fragile
They gently do not linger
Lest their affection break your brittle bones 

God Said

I might’ve left you there
On the floor, propped up near the door
Gingerly wrapped in plain brown paper 
Instead, as I remember, I scooped you up gladly
Wanting to know why
Shouldn’t you be placed in the center of it all
In the gathering place
So that if they cared
Everyone could know

Oh, Flora

I’m not afraid to tell it
How the flora on my left
Likes to brag to all the fauna
That she’s taken with the West

Maybe ’twas the mountain 
Or the headlands on the coast
Who touched soft upon her shoulder
And of whom, ’til death, she’ll boast