Azaleas

circling the golf course like a vulture,

I light near a lover,

fly through pretension to the packy,

hug a fantastic neck and give a book.

On to my mom’s, back across the river.

Camellias, incense, and bogus kitsch,

Garnets and birds.

I crossed the the river a third time,

paused for a beer and a bite before

flying away back to my lover

to steal a kiss, jittery as a schoolgirl,

Floored by what still stands all these decades later.