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.