Hidden

Hidden

There are too many stars in the sky tonight
poured from the curve of an unfull moon
while midnight fantasies lie
shrouded in the sliver of shadow.

Mine though is a swelling tide
and some secrets are best
when they crash, salty, at your feet.

So...
I saw you today,
standing pale and silent
against a blue noon,
watching as I gardened.

My hands busied themselves
with weeds and bulbs and dirt,
while my mind traced tender fingers
around your sad eyes and smiling lips
and no matter how I tried
I couldn't dig deep enough
to bury the ache.

I tried to leave you a moment
sheltered in the curl of the Canna
and for another,
safely swathed in Gardenia perfume
but found you,
again and again
where you've hidden for weeks -

warm against my chest like
a seed inside my shirt pocket.