The flowers are all but dead
and yet a ghost of their beauty
still dances in my head.
–
I thought that water and sun
would be all that they need
to survive the ever burning heat
and not become weeds.
–
But now, the flowers are surely gone
and the grass that remains is burned
into some semblance of a lawn.
–
Like those flowers who didn’t make it,
my love for you needed more
since the burning heat of passion
burned your soul to the core.
© Autumn Siders 2016
