A Moment

"come fluttering words, come drifting words to me . . . " Crumbled walls Decaying paths She wanders through the wreckage of a life she once knew The sky is different now Similar but different Yes, the clouds form different patterns of tragedy in the gray abyss above And it will never look the same again She shivers at the thought Catches sight of herself in a puddle New roots sprout across her skin And she weeps Ahead of her is pink And new Flowers She leans down to meet them Inhales them Let's her tears fall onto their fragile petals Which bob gently in reply As if they understand She is mourning for a moment not yet passed.