On Lovers Eve

Tomorrow’s cards and flowers like showers
will seem to fall from the sky, heaven’s annual
conversation filled with sentimental inclinations,
deep bonds of affection disturbing the mundane,
the pattern of life shifting through the ordinary
promises of love stacked in rows, a few dusted off from the shelf,
some new dreams that lovers dare whisper to each other,
while old lovers try ever so gently to thumb through the faded pages,
old photographs have withered, the glue has dried up
in the dark cabinet. A glance outside confronts us
with the still stark winter where everything is waiting,
the crumbled leaves blown into corners, while naked fields
and dim evergreens try their best to be still.
The earth is tilting toward the sun, on this lover’s eve
With measured devotion, and chapped lips murmuring
“Be mine, be mine again!”