For Nana

Fuscias hang everywhere this time of Year:
balconies, nurseries, businesses. Reminding me
of you and our yellowing yesterdays, especially
our lunches on Wednesday afternoons.
Sitting in restaurants, content from a tasty meal,
We would share our weeks,
chatting over coffee and dessert. And immediately
upon finishing, your lipstick was
out the purse, on the lips,
and back into hiding.
Lipsticks of ravishing purples, pinks, and magentas,
like the fuchsias blooming
around town. They arrive each spring, always
arousing simple memories of you.

          SHANE NOLAN