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Rear View

The echo of blossoms in bloom.

Their pink florets - a fable’s genesis.

I see them all – all in the rear view.

The promise of summer and morning dew

little lies that become so serious.


Watch the sunrise setting in a lilac sky,

Its splendor squandered by the western view.

So quiet is the hour before the night,

The familiar, changing - colored with a darker hue.

Wine and saccharin - comfort in the twilight.


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