Divine Remembrance

Rhododendron

“Stay a little,” I spoke,
through wet and tight’ning throat.
“I haven’t yet to touch
The flesh I love too much.
Nor have I truly smelt,
Nor have I ever felt,
Nor shall I ever see
A flow’r divine as thee.”

Yet as the sun sped by,
Despite my tear-washed eyes,
She crinkled, shrinking small,
And left me to recall.

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