Still Life

Stands quietly
only fragrance
places its presence
for my
passing.

Turning my head
as legs walk on;
deep red
and small,
crenelated.

Soft nested
tiny tooth-edged
petals.
Layered, refined
dozen or more.

Mixed mid
fine threads
of finest
fern-like
feathered breath.

Cool and
velvet touch
on finger tips;
an elegance
of eye.

Held in memory,
as I once
more
hurry
past.

geoff fernald
93