Red Petals

By RD Armstrong

Like the curved blade
of a Samurai
I dream of pushing
my sword deep
into love’s scabbard
while scented petals
delicate and yielding
quiver
and drop
to the ground.

The moon is reflected
in the black water
of the well
its face is half-obscured
by the fallen blossoms of
yesterday’s beauty.

The garden path
washed by my tears
will soon be
covered with
a blanket of red and
yellow.

The day does not
come easily.