Valentine

Is it just me,
or do you feel the same.
That mysterious fragrance left by the
after-rain,
hung like piano music.

Cobbles glisten with puddles of pearl
reflecting sky, sparrows, our soles.
The rippling streets are alive
as we walk in coats and swirling scarves

wrapping the Flemish air in chequered frenzy.
Sodden and big with rain we stride
stiff as belfry, determined as clocks
toward yellow light.