Time’s illusion’s
a speculation.
A yellow rose,
vibrant, softened,
falls in Autumn;
petal dropping, leaf and stalk,
with hardly any echo.
If only I could know that echo;
catch it now as rose
or flower pattern,
cycle season,
losing form
and heading out – away
into the void.
a beautifully telling line "if only I could know that echo". Very very nice
ReplyDeleteI love this poem. It is officially my favorite for Fall 2010!
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