Withering Flower

Like Lucifer your leaves fall. Your petals fade. Your roots fail to ponder The path of the deep. That season is upon you That devours the children of the earth. There is a song You hear when you paddle The canoe alone at night O traveller on the Nile! It’s a sad song of a withering flower You will hear waves mourn. Even the nightingale Joins in the woeful song. Night has come upon beauty And all that can be gathered Of her story Are dried leaves. Glory vanishing like silhouettes. Dropping dried leaves Dancing the dance of falling stars On a cold night. The termites devour every trace Of the flower's glory. Like alchemists sucking Elixir from its fibres. The sky cries over her With dewdrops on the spot she once stood. Nothing is remembered But the poet's verse That preserved her beauty. She is dead on the soil But lives on On a ridge Of the poet's dog-eared book.