Belinda Dale
Sudden Yellow Clouds
 
Recapture a day when
summer brushed our skin
golden, when the sky
bloomed a brief, intellectual blue.
We lay in the green grass watching,
 
as the sudden yellow clouds
rushed overhead,
filling the gaps in the scene.
 
You picked a buttercup,
placed it against my skin, my breasts,
does it like butter?
you said.
 
Later I pressed it between the pages
of a book you gave me,
 
a life extinguished,
 
to be recaptured later;
soft, faded yellow blooms,
 
your hand on my breast,
sudden rain spilling over.