Scorched Corona Page 3
by E.A. Bowen
Unnerving silence slices thick air
For he knows he had not plucked the rose
From a world unknown to him
Withering him dry, the stroking palms,
Her diamond jubilee now in the stars,
A kinder graduation by a sudden blow
And the monster now gone.
Sirens called
One ear, he listened heartily
Fell 'gainst rusty bars of iron refuge
Tasting the unjust perfume and cried.