Between the freshly picked flowers,
and my never ending thoughts.
I found a place to leave my dreams,
So that when I find myself wandering,
Into unknown scapes of remembrance,
I can throw away petals that spell my name.
I’ll stand by the water, my hands full of flowers,
and I’ll throw them into their graves.
Knowing that one day when it all turns around,
They’ll be reborn and I’ll pick them again.
I’ll drift off to sleep and dream of the bay where I would let them go all over again.