I Must Have This

On a good-boy Saturday evening
Walking with my father in the Park,
Linking heads and hands like players
In a tournament we have attended, we are sensible
In speech over a confused matter.

On this evening the sun made the day into dusk,
Our names became forgotten, strange as strange,
Offered to only some; the heated debate turned
Into an argument of considerable temperature.

I saw oak trees and flowers in the dark.
Each bed was perfect. We stopped to
Listen to each other, forming agreements
And new roses grew in our minds.
The maker of the conversations was me.

poem by Naveed Akram
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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