Myosotis Arvensis ( Field Forget-me-not )

Just as the flowers’ petals of pale, dusty blue
Bring this unwelcome thought to mind, which they might not
To yours; so do your eyes, of much sterner hue
But more timid look, beg me so: Forget-me-not?

As you glance to me again, your knitted brow
Signalling such tumult and a desperate scrabble
For the scattered facts within; shows me how
Despite your best intentions, your memories are rubble

And all our shared lives have burned out, to ashes.
Cricket, backgammon and too much wine
Fallen, not forgotten, like your tears from eyelashes
Tight shut by newly wrinkled lids, like fruit withered on the vine.

Your head nods uncertainly, unlike the flowers in the breeze,
No seeds or words to sow or say, just a deep unease.

© Michael Westcombe 2008