Sweet Offer

Do you want a murray mint? I ask.
Not the best place, the beach, at night
in November, bracing you call it; wind
smattered with rain, as deep in my pocket
my fingers recover one of last summer's
half-melted sweets. Further down the shore

you tell me what you thought I'd said.
Do you want to marry me? How I continued,
It might be a bit sticky, and then,
I'm not selling this to you am I? as I fudged
in my jacket for the something I held out
and pressed into your palm.

from Just Our Luck (The Garlic Press 2008)

BACK