Poem No. 4

If Money Were No Object

if money were no object
you would have come home with me
all seven bouquets of
brightly-coloured tulips
defiant against the winter cold
proud of your differences
celebrating your hues

but the groceries had been bought
the wallet was empty
and your much-needed hit of vitality
would not register on the
scale of practicality

so I paused
for just
a moment
and drank
you
in

before the snowstorm swallowed me up again.