Fallen blooms

to the window
I have looked through, aged, longing
longing for the scene to
bloom into roses but
the petals remain fallen
not a sigh, not a riffle
a carpet of clot
red seeping in
red seeping through
the white wooden sill
curling into the clear tears shed
for as long as…
I say my goodbye.
and gently,
gently shut them

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