The Rusty Tin Of Consequence Poem by M.L. Emmett

If an iconic poet had seen us
could they have shaped a meaning
to that seaside afternoon?

Could they have found the words?
or ways to yet convey that lingering sense
that truth between lovers is never known by any other
no matter what they think they see?

All they saw were shards and fragments
a blue tissue papered letter torn to pieces
a diamond ring still in its velvet box
a pressed violet from the Spring
shut tight within that rusty tin -
Lemon Acid Drops
still pictured on the lid-
and dropped from the pier's end
into that deep, deep blue water.