Garden Variety

At the florist, a lady
smelled heavenly;
I grew nearly
intoxicated; swooning
from the air
in her hurried presence;
air subverting agrarianism.

Against my will, I began
devouring her,
leaving only her fragrance,
the still afternoon,
and the stunned Mums
who placidly watched;
gazes, growing like fruit.

by Lamont Palmer

Comments (1)

Well conceived and elegantly brought forth with artistic brilliance. A beautiful work of art. Thanks for sharing Lamont and do remain enriched.