You Lord

Blossoms, sky, you

All answerless

All seem to make a reason to live

I walked under a falling snowleaf

Into a heap of white ashes

Burnt by the fires of living and dying

Imperishable beauty, the flowers

Were good company

I didn't know their names

Just cups of yellow silk and pink hips

The sun was red and made of tissue

They knew you

Lying there

In the softly packed earth

I walked home smiling

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