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C.E. Skilling

The Last Bloom

What love does she bring
while flowers bloom their last
before her winter song

Will it be warming and tender
to melt the mornings frost
‘til the suns rays fall

Or will it merely spin webs around my heart
preparing me for their going
giving deaths splendor to my eye alone

Birds sing here upon my sill
as if pleading messengers
of summers end

What love does she bring
while flowers bloom their last
as I watch with wonder