Couple in the Park with No Kids

Beyond the scratchy skirt of yews

my ambling dog has nosed, a couple lies

engrossed, half-screened (have they skipped work?)

pleasure-seeking in the dusty earth.

High-shine, two cans askew in grass have given them away.

Flies graze,

a self-effacing moth lifts itself

off scabious, those pale, heavy-headed flowers.

At Kew one August we lay likewise side by side

on tombs, behind a pall of rhododendrons. That afternoon

a pride of pregnant women bloomed

along the gravel paths, juggernauts of happy families

drove swags of babies past.