Light Flower

by Melindy Wynn-Bourne


 

At the spot where she once laid

As heartbeat stopped and life did fade
Her fingers, torn from shards of glass
Reached out and grasped a tuft of grass,
Each blade tipped with a crimson drop.
Since then, the green-hued grass did stop
It’s growth to give a streak of red
To mark where she laid her head.
Amid the scarlet fronds, a light
Comes from the blossoms. Glowing, white
Against the night seems pale and stark
And cuts a ray of light into the dark.
Illuminates the narrow lane,
The curve invisible in rain
Marked by this one fragile rose
Opens as another one draws close.