Little Blue Omens

10/30/19

I dressed you in forget me nots
one hundred thousand wished me luck.
You stripped them naked, pluck by pluck,
two hundred thousand love-me-nots.
I should have counted,
should have thought.
An odder number still would rot.

But just as many loved me, too.
I wish you’d missed a count (not two)

You laughed between our wrinkled noses,
I guess I should have bought you roses.

(It’s actually 250 000 but that didn’t sound as nice.)