I should sort through the shirts in my closet
To clear space for some extra winter clothes.
I step back, squint, and watch a composite
Of daffodils, violets, docks, and a rose.
I flip past blue sky and brown oak-
Do you try to think about you and I,
Lounging? I wanted to let the sun soak
You away, before hands came to the thigh-
Sweaters, old tank tops and collared short sleeves.
Haven’t seen this Christmas blouse since after-
You picked me an orchid complete with leaves.
Ringing off the trees and stone walls, laughter
No longer echoes off the emptiness
That fills me and my winter closet mess.