Heart lying on the sidewalk for anyone
to trample, foolish and unteachable slamming
into plateglass, leaving another stunned smear.
Heart begging plaintive at the empty bowl, heart
who never locks the door. Heart left to swelter
in the sun untended, chestless and pleading.
Heart hiding under the table with lantern eyes,
drawing a map of footsteps, scared and ready,
racing seconds, buried in a heave of furry breast.
Heart whose mirror is a field of poppies,
delicate fleet of tissue red lifted brief.
Seasonal, made to wilt, made to return.
Heart who will never leave the yard
because longing chains it to the fencepost.