I Come to See You

I come to see you, wilted blooms clutched in my hand.

You turn away.

I catch the shadow of a butterfly's dance around a spent flame.

"Where have you been?" you ask and drive a bitter wedge through my heart.



I come to see you.

Duty bound but you look through me to a whisper of a girl long ago.

That shell in the tattered chair is not you!

The soft breeze that you were has rippled the water and gone.



I come to see you, fresh flowers clutched in my hand.

But you sleep now.

A breeze stirs a snowflakes dance against the windowpane.

"Where have you gone?" I ask and drive an ice pick through my heart.