The chanteuse's lover died last Friday
With no past, they say
And now with no future.
I miss him.
No,I miss the flowers he often send her
And she often shared with me.
When days in my flat were identical.
Flowers bought motion to the wind,the
hues added to the ecstatic vision.
Flowers can be so kind.
Gerbera,Anthurium, Calla,Heliconia,Poinsettia
They wear masks of names and colourful thoughts.
My neighbour is this lovely young woman.
She fastens around her glances and necklaces her lovers bring.
Flowers were like summers they would come and go in promiscuous faces
and eyes. But he lies in my spongy memories
Closing around the bed post and cover.
The days must be just metal and music for my young neighbour.
I brought her some flowers today
I thought I would share her kindness
While walking back I thought
How can a sweet man like him die so young?
No wine bottles will now come
No prompt invitation for hours of laughter will follow...
Today while I was unlocking myself in
I smelt flowers and perfume
The smell had vanished behind the opposite door
I thought I would knock
and give her what I bought.
Then I heard laughter and music
The gloom has lifted.
I took my flowers back with me, perhaps I need them more than she...
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