To my neighbor with flowers at the door —
why haven’t you opened them yet?
Does the lovelorn beggar for your pardon
owe for being in your debt?
Or maybe — they have made you hardened
with their happy, heedless zest.
Maybe, secretly, you’re glad they parted –
or maybe, you’re the one who left,
and whoever wished upon you roses
still keeps a ghost at your doorstep.
Maybe it’s you they chose
to leave – and once they left,
saw how swiftly a wish can go
before it returns with regret.
Or maybe – more likely – you’re just not home. You’re out of town.
You’re sick in bed.
Or love just hasn’t happened yet.