This is how you captioned the picture

       of mystery girl

swimming up to her breast in fire-weed;

    the app-filter both obscuring

      & illuminating your new lover.

  She plucks the blooms & baskets them

immersed in the springtime boon.        But you

  behind the camera       stayed near the road

    bounding distance from the gas pedal

for that unexpected   but eventual   departure.

    It's springtime now         rising into summer

  but in the fall those fields will be fallow

& I can tell:    you are taking the south road

    – following the blossom & moving on 

  before autumn’s steep decay.

 Roadside beauty is just that for you:

a temporary temptation       a tourist trap

     a place for passing through

   soon fading in your unused 

                                             rear-view.

  But for now her skirt still lifts

     on the easy winds of your words

         which     smoke-like     whisper

    their own warning in the morning air.

Fire is a promise I could make her but

 she already knows her flowers 

  once picked will wither       & besides

 anyone who has ever walked this highway

              hitching or being hitched

    should understand

           the nature of roadside attraction.