Valentine’s Day
Shy, the thought of firing love darts
like the garden snail
has its appeal. The idea
of banging heads
like big horn sheep
for your love? No thanks.
Elephant seals bumping chests
for the title of beachmaster
and my own harem, well,
that’s tempting
but I’m more of a romantic.
I prefer to compete
in a more subtle way
–like the Mexican molly.
The dude with the most
impressive mustache
wins the girl. Imagine me
sporting a Salvador Dali
with its bike-like handles.
Impossible. My ability to grow
facial hair is like
a tortoise’s.
No, I’ll need to impress you
in other ways.
Do you like hiking trails
of clematis and monkey flowers?
I could be your guide,
through the pinkish fields
of Lonicera hispidula,
the striped fashions in vogue
among the pipe vines,
lavender dresses favored
by the morning glories,
and as you bend to their scents
my heart rate racing
like a hummingbird’s
in love
by Bob Bradshaw
Editor’s Note: Metaphors shape the heart of this poem, where saying “I love” feels like a race to the edge of a precipice.
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