In the aching arms of sorrow
memories
drift softly in
searching
for a place to fall

Like the sunflower seeds
I scattered
upon your grave
now blooming
flowers of pain

Their gentle faces
flecked
with the gold
of the sun
from whom
they cannot look away

A speck of dust
floats idly free
then hangs suspended
in the light
For minutes
in my imagination

The sunflowers
are serenading me
and their voices linger
in my heart
as I am fading
slowly into night

Like the scent
of once bright flowers

© Ann Bagnall