The aging blind man at the florist's
Recalls his vision, his statue'd youth
Here, the sensation of scent
Is a meadow of heartache
When days were alive as a bouquet
Nostalgic now to go / see her…
Alas when sight was fragrant...
He carries lilies out the door
Old and blind
A man holding memories
Of bright befores...
Alas when sight was fragrant.
Nov 12, 2017
Nov 12, 2017 at 4:08 PM UTC
The aging blind man at the florist's
Recalls his vision, his statue'd youth
Here, the sensation of scent
Is a meadow of heartache
When days were alive as a bouquet
Nostalgic now to go / see her…
Alas when sight was fragrant...
He carries lilies out the door
Old and blind
A man holding memories
Of bright befores...
Alas when sight was fragrant.
Ennui
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