Falling Petals
My fingers ran over the bark
“A+K” nestled in a heart
Wouldn’t you come with me, he asked,
I cast a smile now an old scar
The gentle breeze closes my eyes
In the dusting of the springtime
Sweet scented thoughts of yesterday
Waft too often never to stay
Winds settle and plums bloom no more
The corpse of our carvings’ a stump
The lady in white pinafore:
"We should go back" - an innate grump
The clinic is a sight weary
None comes as close as “who was he?”
Copyright © Fareeha Fareej Mohamed | Year Posted 2023
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