Delayed Delivery
Consider then the time it takes for love
To reach you. He composes poetry
To post to you, a poetry above
The usual expressions, burgundy
In color, softer than a whisper from
His soul, and sweeter than vanilla on
Your tongue, desired as a viaticum
Provided in extremis. He has sawn
His lines from hearts of weeping cherries, yet
The nights that intervene between the day
Of posting might produce a sharp regret
Before the villanelle can find its way
To your ungrateful hands. A poem sent
For ever slots into abandonment.