petals scattered
apple tree branches
rolling this way and that
Empty hours
The future that never comes
breathlessly peeking out from the barn
withered late in the day
Our love

Between the furrows
The silent afternoon sun breaking
Seeds that haven't rotted
My greedy unfortunate
Roses, wilting late in the day

touched by the petals that fell that day
Past cellar
Stained with the scent of wine
A single rose that withered late
Let's knock on the door
The helplessness of self-destruction to stand up
The emptiness.