August 13, 2009

Lament of a flower-reader

My little, my dear
My precious, my flower.
Summer breeze brought
your smell from the sea -

I sensed you in fullest bloom
I felt all your feelings
I studied you petal by petal

The breeze is no more
You are no more
I am no more.

But for once -
I want to:
Smell you
Feel you
Touch you.
My little, my dear
My precious, my flower.

No comments:

Post a Comment