Gentle stirring of the leaves, a light breeze of comfort -
softly embraces my soul and brings warmth of coolness.
Time is not a nuisance to my immortal decision.
My fickle emotions at day and night; only my shadow.

Caressing the strands of hair, your colors
your heart across the oceans; deaf at my sirens.
The split reflection, the tainted photograph.
Pillows soaked by the incessant rain.

Your flowers still hang on my wall.
They pile up at my door: red, yellow and white.
Skeletons of stems and petals
desktops bare, vases disgruntled.

The candle shone brightly on that night -
ignited by the phosphorus of your hands.
Never has it glowed, flamed so intensely.
Many have tried yet none have succeeded.

Knocking at the door, wakes me up from my respite
Flowers again: red, yellow and white
desktops bare, vases disgruntled.
Time is not a nuisance to my immortal decision.

eric smith