He crushes the violets in his hand and clover beneath his feet
Her eyes are blue like shining rivers
She saw him coming as she swept the porch
Dust sparkles in the sunshine and swirls with her persistent stroke
She wipes her hands on a gingham apron and leans her broom to rest
He removes his hat with some difficulty even though he has a free hand
Sweat stains the collar of his chambray shirt
A black ribbon hangs from his bullish neck
“I brought these flowers for you.”
She accepts them with a soft smile
“Come; let me find a vase and some water,
would you like some water as well?”
“That would be nice mam, thank you.”
“Granger, if you’re going to come courting
you might at least address me as Emily.”
His feeling of ignorance is confirmed in the tops of his feet
which he studies like the meaning of life was there
“I thank you very much for the lovely flowers,
it was thoughtful of you to pick them for me.”
His past sins are forgiven and the faux pas “mam”
“Emily, you have such a beautiful name, it’s almost as pretty as you.”
“Well, I must say Granger, what you lack in grace you more than make up for in content.”
He smiled at that and it felt like the world lifted from his shoulders.
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