by Kendra Jeong-Espinosa She never saw the marigolds, the blooms that grew today, Releasing airy flecks of gold that rose into the grey; Their petals in the sunlight burned and then, as ash, to earth returned As if to leave a parting word Before they blew away.
She would have loved the marigolds, although she lost the chance To run unfettered: daring, bold; lie tossed among the plants. And since she fell by iron will ---a virtue to admire, still--- Her startling absence sends a chill Across the vast expanse.
Enlighten me, oh marigolds, about this scene you've shown: The queen is gone, oh marigolds, so who will claim the throne? Her savior came, but came too late--- sweet irony and bitter fate, And though the wailers begged to wait, She drifted off alone.
I sauntered through those marigolds, beyond their haunting glow They taunted me, those marigolds, for what went on below? A root held fast to how we were--- A path to bring me back to her? Or is our pact a debt incurred That I forever owe?
And if she saw these marigolds, then we may not agree: Through darkened lens, they're terrible, as omens ought to be. But daybreak will advance and then Inhale the pallor cast again And feed the field of marigolds---
That she will never see.
END OF BOOK II
Thank you all for reading! Whether you’re commenting, lurking, or doing the blogger quid pro quo thing, know that I appreciate each and every one of you for going through this journey with me. Bless you, bless you all.