Floracopia
For Sian
... So while I was not watching
Time, its winding fingers,
Wrapped around her slender frame
And she, weighed down by
Years she would not live,
Became the memory of Spring
And the shadow of future branches
Reaching to a sky
She could not see
And the Universe closed itself about her
As if she had never been
A bud upon a tree
In darkness
Flowering
Still.
