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.
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