A Daisy a Day

At a little café
on a side street of the Pittsburgh Strip

Sidewalk tables,
wrought iron chairs sprayed white
with curlicues to match,

The houses, old but proud,
wore wrought iron railing on balconies
that sported red geraniums in terracotta pots,

You bought me daisies.

We sipped lattes
and pretended it was Paris
in April.  A rainbow slicked puddle
was the Seine

— until a taxi splashed by
and stained my dress with runoff
from Alcoa.

Sometimes reality lacks respect for dreams.

2 thoughts on “A Daisy a Day

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s