cut past, an endearing tear in emptiness
glanced upon a hilltop where
the lavender swayed without breeze
picking the soothing color
I wasn't supposed to see
misfitted, trails foraging into
tailor shops and nestle of roses
I am
nothing like those petals red and lavish
something simpler, an aged branch
of great oak trees
birch trees ghostly white
a chip of that, a glint of a knight
don't beat the drums
if the lavender can't even
grow within my sight