.

Do flowers not sing?
As they wilt and kiss the earth
Their proud petals decomposing
Arched stalk broken
Sweet scent overwhelmed?
In death, they bleed the essence
Of stolen innocence.

I had a flower that sang
but she is silent now.
An immortal blossom
pressed between the yellow
folds of my soul.
— I miss the lilt of your music.

____________________________________________________________________

A dying image. How long can I linger and write of grief? Perhaps if I remain saddened forever.