I Wear Yellow

Maybe the drama
 Of black umbrellas,
A moody sky,
And rain
       falling
On a graveyard,  
   all grey,  
all cold
Would have somehow appealed
                    To you.

But today
the sun shines bright
        And you lie
In a meadow
Of flowers
Sweet
And wild
As our hair as it blew
In the wind,
When we finally reached
   The crest of Cleeve Hill.

And I wear yellow,
Bright and bold,
A coat you left
Barely worn,
With no lingering scent
Of your Simple shampoo,
Or hint of the warmth of your skin.