The lawn gnomes had all lost their hats
and the one that was my favorite, the one
that held a flower, had walked away from
our lawn after he pulled me into him
on my doorstep after our first date.
I pictured the gnome’s little face twisted
into contempt as he started at this man
who had held my door for me all night
and smiled at me as I bought a book
in the middle of our date inside of a snow globe.
I used to have dreams that lawn gnomes
were hiding under my bed waiting to kill me.
As I grew up, the gnomes became much
scarier and moved from under my bed to
filling my mind completely with insecurity.
But I told him I hated mornings and that
I look horrible when I roll out of bed.
He looked down shyly and whispered
that he thought that would be impossible;
I’m happy my ring got left behind as I left his house.
It wasn’t on purpose per se,
but I smiled knowing he would find it in the morning.