Even the sun-clouds this morning cannot manage such skirts.
Nor the woman in the ambulance
Whose red heart blooms through her coat so astoundingly –
A gift, a love gift
Utterly unasked for
By a sky
Palely and flamily
Igniting its carbon monoxides, by eyes
Dulled to a halt under bowlers.
This is obscure. Why should a ‘sky’ — oddly personified — ask or not ask for a gift? There may be something cosmic, outside the poet, that suggests the source of love is non-human.
Poppies in October