#452900 added September 5, 2006 at 4:02pm Restrictions: None
Long After the Fragrance is Gone
On rigid stems, tall, resembling a baroness,
or slouching, stretched out,
bright seductive flowers against the wall,
bashful violets, soaring carnations, smiling dahlias
unfolding a caress,
facing the sun.
Some hidden, strange,
rising up, garish, winding,
akin to people disguising their panic
in laughter.
Here, everything is relevant;
the bond is tied in color and aroma,
and I rejoice satisfied
with my solitude,
in this intimate reverie
as refuge.
When on winter’s snow
my shadow falls,
I shall be reminded of this:
the beauty of sun’s life in my garden.
For humans tend to forget things.
Yet, I shall recall the real event
with vague displacement
and sighs of recognition.
Truth will prevail
like Midas’s secrets,
when the reeds sway
whispering in the wind,
long after the fragrance
is gone.
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