Tuesday, July 24, 2012

dried flowers and the setting sun
some count what we'll forget
others count the fun

borne on small waves, they float to great distance:
  pink buds dancing on pure light,
  until they are too bright
  to look on any more. (consumed by the star)

the sun sets

gone, yes, but never done
filled up and not yet full
dried flowers and the setting sun

the sun also rises

flowers reborn, a circle unshorn

you, my rose:

oceans apart but still in my heart
across the sea and always with me

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