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February Air
He stopped by Grandma’s
a pair of pliers snipping
blossoming flowers.
Bundle of roses
tearing through the skin, hands of
first-time Valentine.
Behind the door his
smile hides the imperfect bunch
wrapped in a shoe-lace.
Eyebrows tilt softly
her lips swerve slightly awry
a laugh finds a way.
Catching her mid-air,
spinning her around, the dress
blossom out a bell.
White dress, upside down
rose, her eyes shine like starlight
like nothing in sight.
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A light-hearted old school kind of love.