One more time
One last time
Said She

Morning hours now
Dawn light sheds it's tale
On these white bed sheets

A cool glass of water
Sits on the bedside table
Moisture condensing on the side of the glass

Friday night's bouquet sits alone
With nothing left to love
Not even a voice or tear

Tulips of orange and yellow
The scent capturing a moment
No longer here today, yesterday

A warm breeze enters the room
Lifting up the love note from the linens
Making it swirl around in the room

Can you find it?
Can you please find it?



© 2001 David Greg Harth
01.12.16.16:25:00@TampaIntAirport