he threw dogwood petals up into the air
all around me, in showers of springtime and laughter
stuck in my hair, i didn't mind keeping them there
to remind me of the love that grew
that sunday afternoon
a garland of reverie around my head.
dangerous, he being so shy of me
but his love was true then, truer still now
when he took my hand and the wind sang
through my hair in approval of the scene
"nothing so pure
nothing so right
nothing so good" was his melody.
i believe part of me fell in love then
yes, it fell on a sunday
breezy, dogwood treesy, weak in the kneesy
i am in love.
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