Absence

"Here, my love, I planted bulbs—

Spring flowers to entrance your eye

After the long darkness of winter,

Their nodding heads

Heralding an exuberant cascade of colour

To make these climes seem warmer.

And to watch the show

A place to sit, the sun's light

And warmth trapped by art.

Every link is woven, like a poem or a play,

With thought of you."

But silence answered,

And the players performed

To an empty seat.

Autumn Leaves