Uploaded on February 7, 2012

Images appear,
Blend, bathe and baffle.

A flower
Drops its petals.

They glow,
Glisten,
And offer glimpses

Of a life,
A hand, a heart, a happiness,

Promising joy,
Conferring graces.

And I grasp

At nothing

But air.

Waking
To the rooting babe
Next to me.

—Cheryl Doyle-Ruffing


02.07.2024: I find this poem interesting and want to come back to it.