Strange how a scent can remind me of tears,
of sorrow, of love, of long-passed-by years.
It stirs up my memories, bitter yet sweet,
like dancing with shadows; move forward, retreat.
The bright trumpet flower with sugary dew
is scented so utterly, totally You.
It's the smell of remembrance, dusted with love.
A subtle reminder you're somewhere above,
and should it, by virtue of wind, float on by
you might see a tear or two flee from my eye.