This time a friend brings tiny red hearts
whose beat our daughter dances through the house.
Shiny droplets cascade down the fig leaves,
pool on the table around the sea glass
we've collected over a decade of summers,
curl a trail along the bookcase edge.
They slip out through the door with our guests,
our happiness clinging to their heels.
Days later we shake a trickle from the duvet,
scoop up a handful from the warm hollow
of the sofa, disturb a couple
entwined in the bath.
Even now there's still one winking
from between the bedroom floorboards,
another soaking up our conversations
in the crack on the kitchen table,
another planted in my gardening boot
embedded further with each step I take.
Confetti by Vicky Wilson | Pink Peony Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
