The Meadow by Danielle Pierre

(c) 2008 Danielle Pierre

Intently, she veers off a path of gloom,
wandering into a meadow, soft hue, full in bloom.
Tossed sporadically, flowers shading tomorrow,
amongst strangling weeds, breeding yesterday’s sorrow;
she picks a flower while wandering through,
its fragrance familiar, a scent fading; you.
A drop of memory falls from her eye, watering soil
with days gone by.
A new path ahead leads to love, new tomorrow;
she sets down the flower, and with it her sorrow;
joyous anticipation accompanies fresh ground;
she glances back at what was, as flowers wither; abound.


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