Skeletal hydrangea

Hanging weeped-out petals —

The only remainder of a temporary

Summer

That dangled eternity.

Floral corpse —

Weaving lace of loss with fingers

Of boney stems;

Its life bled out

Of pallid veins

Made ghost

From winter-eaten death.



~~~

❤👽

~~~

*** In the Spring time, thoughts of life and death take up equal space in my head — a true Equinox of emotion. For every feeling of light and happy there are feelings of dark and nothing. I envy the month of June when all the sullen brackish damp dries up. ***