Unattended Poem by Suzanne Hayasaki

The roses you sent
Sit wilting in the window sill.
It's as if they are waiting
For you to come and claim them
Like I used to do.

You put me off with excuses
And a steady string of trinkets,
Always delivered, never presented,
As if going through the motions
Makes you less of a cad.

If only I had left you sooner.
If only I had closed the door in your face
The last time you graced me with a visit.
If only I could look you in the eye
And keep my presence of mind.
If only you weren't so damn handsome.

We both know I could not throw you out,
Then or ever.
So instead I allow some flowers
To die a slow, lingering death,
In the middle of the living room
In hopes that someone will notice their demise
And surmise the state of my heart.

Maybe your best friend will call again.
The one with the lop-sided grin
And that fringe that flops over his eyes
That can never find anything clever to say.

Maybe I should encourage him.
Maybe marrying him would hurt you.
Or maybe it would just leave you free
To flaunt your conquests in front of me.

For the time being I sit and watch
As one by one red petals fall off
The dozen buds delivered days ago
And wait, as I always do, for you.