Petal

Remember that 

brilliant afternoon 

by the Nickleodeon 

when we met 

at the corner and 

I was wearing a pink dress

petaled like the Tatin rose.

It should have looked

foolish but

somehow being a 

goth girl in pink

delighted most eyes

and you always

looked at me 

like a diverting 

bolt of some kind 

of luck.

It was an accidental 

meeting

if you can call 

walking the same path 

where I might see you 

every day

a hazard of luck

and the sun shone 

white on us 

at the summit 

of its promenade.

I think you quoted from

the Rubaiyat 

“COME, fill the Cup, 

and in the fire of Spring” 

but I like to imagine

you were thinking of the

lines about roses

because

these unexpected friendships

are the best flowers

in the garden.