Dark rose petals and ashes sit upon still waters
I wouldn’t dare ruin it with my reflection
The top of the pines trees is all the water needs.
I taste the death on my fingertips
The fragrance of the roses hurt my heart.
She was here once,
Up the hill from where the fountain lay.
So softly on her knees
She would look back and smile at me
The orange bucket besides her filled with weeds.
I can still smell the dark soil as she stood
And wiped her hands on her jeans.
The garden lays in ruin, overgrown with weeds
All I can do is look with sadness
On dark rose petals and ashes upon still waters.
Copyright © Tyler Rawlings | Year Posted 2017
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