Sonnet On Days Of Change

A petal hung its jowl,

Weighted by the rain,

And I wasn’t sure who was braver,

Steaming like rockfall

Through the life we once wore:

Where a robe no longer fits,

Where cheap fabric has worn to the muscle.

A flower shook its stem,

To loose persistent guests,

And I wasn’t as cavalier,

Sealing the walls of our own past in plastic coffins,

Never to be warmed with life again.

            Nor did faith step to plug the flow,

            Or time rise back from days below.