What I Owe Scott

To hold hands
because we both care.
Amidst every dare,
ampersands.

No real plans,
absent questionnaire.
End of solitaire
and demands.

Verbs? No, sans.
Mere stuff of the air,
something to impair
who misunderstands.

Subject, object and
a flower in my hair.
That's a complete sentence!

Next poem: To a Skittish House Finch

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