I watched your petals
fall away like youth
in a blessing of the breeze.
One by one
they butterfly away
silent, spent breaths
in the reveal of time;
a dance of veils
unwrapping
until stripped-eased
and naked
you succumb to age.
Beneath,
the path is strewn
with your children,
decorated,
as if for ritual.
1 comment:
Sad, but beautiful.
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