Empty Vases
there are
petals in the river
blown there by the wind
far from the face of a flower
they kiss the water
and get swept away
by a strong current
the moon in its mood
at different phases
a sentimental star
cast the shadow down
a million miles from the garden
where once the eye would linger
perfumed in the air
a white rose took blush
in the heat of a stare
some roses fall to pieces
and get carried to the river
while others bleed on the vine
and drop like ash
a magic few
make it inside
by hand
to trim a table
or romance a room
or keep a page
or the company
of the mind
the mystery of the heart
where once a rose
did bloom
a token of youth
and all that’s lost
in June
TL