Now The Mysteries Unfold
the budding is over
the petals start to unfold
and you are there
to see what these
flowers have been
hiding all through
the years of your patient
presence
petals as black as the
hair of a mad woman
scent as foul as dead
rotting fish on the shore
poem by Ric S. Bastasa

Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!