Blooming can be the saddest season.
from a tombstone
covered in last Winter’s poinsettias.
I closed my window ,
drew the blinds,
wandering through the wildflowers
of my mind
to the last glimpse of sun;
feelings following the scent
all the way to the end of April.
~Day 28 of NaPoMo *a poem a day in April for National poetry month)