Silken Stuff

Silken Stuff

She buys a scarf, a memory of 

the places that they used to go

She ties it all around her head

And every time she wears it now

The little slip of silken stuff

Reminds her that 

She was enough

He brings a scarf from faraway 

A little slip of silken thread

He tucks it in his leather bag

Between his business shirts and stuff

Amidst the sights and fantasies

And all the places that he’s been

She knows that even faraway

She’s been remembered on that day

And that she is enough

So many times he goes away

Till every country is the same

Hotels

Dinners

Meals

And deals

Shaking hands 

Exchanging names

Playing endless corporate games

Before he boards the last flight out

His trusty PA must sneak out

And thrust into his attaché

A packaged slip of silken stuff

A “memory” of his time away

To let her know he thought of her

And that she is enough

Soon she has so many scarves

So many memories 

His, not hers

And all reminders of the times

She’s been alone 

With nothing but 

A “leave a message at the tone”

And so she gathers up her scarves

And ties them all upon the trees

And in the breeze they flutter there

like multi-coloured bunting

free

He sees the tail lights leaving as

He pays the cab and trundles up

The driveway underneath the trees

Of flapping silken stuff 

and sees

The years and years 

of not enough

Then one day, a wondrous thing

Upon the breeze a-fluttering

His fingers lift it up to see

If she, delighting in it, 

may be 

kinder than she was of late

When bitterness was all she had

And all her love had turned to hate

And maybe in that silky moment 

He could twist the hand of fate

Into his pocket

Slips the scarf 

And prays that he is not too late

And as he looks between the rows of wispy scarves

And silken throws

He sees her face, though lined

Still fair

The silky scarf around her hair 

It’s just a glimpse

But it’s enough

He runs

His heart feels like it’s done

If dying thus,

He must go on

And there she is

And there he is

With just his gift of silken stuff

The words have gone

His mouth has dried from all the tears that he has cried

And slowly from his pocket

his offering of silken stuff 

Should she take his offering, 

The little slip of silken stuff

Can love be more than what we have

To give

And is enough

Ever enough?