WHITE
POPPIES
she
knows
silence
watching leaves
fall
gracefully down
crumbling
on the old stone path
finding
something like intrinsic beauty in their decay
remembering summery embraces as dancing
poppies scent the twilight breezes
patiently listening for the last white
crumpled petal to fade and fall as all around wait and anticipate the next
regeneration
Virginia
Gow
March 2013
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