I rang you as I was driving through the rain
along the coastal line that winds back towards home.

I don’t have bluetooth but I plugged my earphones
in and we laughed about looking like an in-car telemarketer.

You waited as I sat in the traffic, we spoke about
bowling greens and the connotations of polyester shirts.

Work seems tough at the moment. Our friends are coming back and
going again. Are you up soon on a Thursday night? We should have wines.

It was late by the time I got back home, miraculously found a park
right outside my house, its amber-lit windows curtain-drawn in the night.

It was dark and we were nearing the end of our chat, and you
said to me, I bet there are fresh flowers lying in your backseat,

I know you carry them
everywhere you go.