A Tomb of Ancient Blooms
The afternoon clouds came floating by, rolled over the hills, and fleeting streaks of orange hues flashed the sky. Incense-colored wisps of wind mantled the earth. Like a dream, the flowers withered and faded.
A passing shadow --
It was over after
A breath and a sigh.
She sat at the old Victorian bench, an engraved sight this early evening. There was nothing out there but gloom. The night sky veiled her garden blooms. The light was absent and colors cannot be sensed. Yet, her face was all aglow, enraptured with awe.
Courage --
In the bosom of love
There is no fear.
She sighed to the evening sky, asked it of his thoughts, and to breathe on her flowers. She wanted to feel colorful evocations in her soul. She surveyed the black earth and a garden with a mind of its own sprung up to life. It swarmed with smiling blooms, roses, dahlias, hyacinths, and wild flowers. Explosions of colors with a memorial scent that holds no secret that it loves.
The dead lover's scent --
A tomb of ancient blooms
That never fades.
- maria 3.8.16
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