Strong winds
were never enough
to send you off course
you became
straight ahead
this bad idea
of nothing left to lose
packed bags
frayed strings
barely holding things
together.
You arranged flowers
for your shadow
never seen again
mourned by the desperate
last minute men
in dark smokey hours
who consoled you
I told you
so.
How can something so simple
so difficult
as beautiful
bloom
from the hard ground
you walk all over?
