Valentine's Day.
My old love long blazed
to ash--now not even
ash.
In my palm what he left me --
heart blown in heavy glass.
I see my face in its candy
apple shine
which I use to trace its shape
on paper--a Valentine
for my teen boy
who makes it clear
he does not care about such things,
least of all from Grandma now that
what matters to his heart is how
he styles his hair for today's
Tick Tok masquerade.
But what good is life without love?
Even unrequited?
So I fill the pouch with chocolates,
each wrapped in blood red foil
shaped as teats but called a kiss.
Tonight I set the gift where in the morning
he will eat his toast.
All night they wait for this flashy boy--
this
dozen unwanted kisses.
