Plaids and Polka Dots

Dearest Johanna,

After all those years,
your words were often as fresh in my ears
as Christmas carols in springtime.

We walked through wild and vibrant hues
clothed in blacks and navy blues,
speaking with words that almost rhymed,
like cherry-lime and eglantine.

But such as it was, it was fine.

Though we were paired
like plaids and polka dots,
stripes and spots,
country-fried okra and kumquats,
you loved me well
and I adored you so;
it was swell.

But now -
now it is over.
So, my love, farewell.

Your loving Henry.

I placed the note back on the ground,
upon the grave where it was found.