Bugbear

This is the third in a chain of four small abstract series, following Murderess and Hoar; something green after all the blood and ice.

 

Bugbear

Who doesn’t love the purple flower
in the warm evening, the purple flower
in the bright and warm evening smell,
wide and soft winds,
and it will never be this good; between
the moon and the damp earth smell
and the dying flowers behaving
like there will be someone
to rescue them from the wilt.