Delicate childhood flowers
flourishing in shady places.
Raindrops with second thoughts
trying to get back to the sun,
or the sun with second thoughts
wanting back what it didn't need
billions of years before.
No wonder they smell so fragile,
an almost indecisive smell,
not knowing where to belong,
here, in shady places
or back at center, the sun.
Tomas DE FAOITE
First published in DUST,
Reinart Edities
Friday, October 1, 2010
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