A rosebud drips down upon the pavement
as father draws a final drag from this
porcelain pipe, its tobacco well-spent.
Rest in peace sweet little summertime bliss.
Lips pressed taut admiring the embers,
while they pieced together a forlorn kiss.
These penultimate moments are a blur,
whispered by magpies on the window-pane,
wrought by dust bunnies, and letters from her.
Oh lord may we be blessed and insane;
stifle these stains with bullets to the brain.