[Image by Wilbur Young]
At the end of it all,
down to a stray spider tucked behind a petal,
invisible but for a true look given
– a second glance to really see
what was meant, what was missed;
a sip of tea to forget that one last kiss.
Murky water tainting glass,
not long now before colours fade to sepia
and stems wither, quenched yet parched.
Throw open the window, let in the spring:
sit not in historic reverie. And there is pansies…
Of another’s heart, you’ll yet be queen.
[Copyright © N R Nolan 2016]