Flores


I am filling up with earth
my mouth is full of weeds
a full stop the size of me
sits at the foot of my bed,

all love has decided to hate
my heart holds back a beat
it opens up & swallows hard,

my skin becomes space
my thoughts shower stars
through life's black glares,

now eyes are beach rolled
pebbles clacking on the tide,

I am a distant relatives ghost
following behind my own box,

one day flowers will grow from me
heavy Marigolds and wild Bluebells

yet the scent of me will still be yours.


John G.Hall(c)2007