Ebbing Maturity Poem by RoseAnn V. Shawiak
Ebbing Maturity
Taking my hand away from blossoms dying on
their stems, reluctantly letting their flowery
essence disappear.
Breezes wafting final scents of life into minds
filled with their images.
Silently, maturity ebbs into the darkness,
claiming it's rightful stance after life.
Monday, January 13, 2014
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4/26/2024 4:46:01 PM # 1.0.0.1119
