the bare minimum.

is the silence damning or was it the lack of azaleas
in the garden? it made me think too much of you,
and i pulled them out. they had blossomed pink,
not yellow like i was promised at the nursery.
pink was foreign to you, you never saw the appeal;
when i pointed at the sky of a still-pink sunrise,
you fixated on the yellows, the oranges and reds.
i still don’t know why it was your favourite colour;
maybe, you and the sun were one in the same,
or maybe you thought yellow was the colour of spring,
your favourite season – with dandelions, tulips,
and daffodils popping up. i saw you at home depot,
you glanced at me, picked up a rake and went about
the rest of your shopping – you only hesitated at the
checkout, when you were a line over, you searched
for an invitation but found none. and when i went
back home, your car drove by – you used to take
the long way back home. what changed? is the
silence damning? or was it the lack of azaleas?

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another napowrimo poem i did not post on here