when i am lonely i often think
of
you staring up at grey clouds
with a wrinkled brow and frown
me telling you not to worry
it’ll clear up, i said
and i was right
but aren’t i always
us spread out on a blanket
a smiling tear on your cheek
that you said was only a raindrop
the park overrun with dandelions
that, for once, looked not like weeds
but like wordsworth’s daffodils
