vain beauty

by on November 1, 2014 :: 0 comments

Already short of breath
in the midsummer day
flowers born to exude
scent die in exhaustion
applauding breeze
with curling petals
falling on the mantelpiece
among odd objects
reflecting the pale
indolence of human flesh
all scintillation.

editors note:

With the turn of leaves, comes this turn of phrases; scintillating indeed! Thanks, Francesca! – mh

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