Poem: Mud Bath.

Mud Bath.

.

We were walking carefully

Along the February riverside,

Slipping through slick mud

And avoiding the dog shit.

We decided to take a break

By looking in the Garden Centre

.

It was quite bare and drab

With none of summer’s show.

You saw a bucket by the counter

Holding two sad bunches of flowers

One twenty five a bunch

Or two for two pounds.

.

You bought them for me anyway

Presenting them with a bow,

I am looking at them now

Drooping in a cut glass vase

Feeling bucked up immensely

By their cheering conversation.

.

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