Lotus, Brown

Beyond the hills he lives

The man of iron

One without a mask broad shoulders

Eyes, lotus like brown

Voice, vibrant and deep

He walks towards me with his umbrella

Lest I get wet in the rain

And my flowers wilter

I blush behind my hat, a crimson red

And hope for the rain to never stop

Basket of flowers

There I stand, next to the lake
With my basket of flowers
They pass by,
one by one,
greeting me in their pleasant ways
I smile and talk
They laugh and flatter
Acting so well...
But then the sun goes down
And the rain comes along
Everything changes and much is revealed
They run past me, their expressions blank
To the other bearers of flowers
Their fake sincerity washing down their faces
I stand alone, my flowers weltering
waiting?
waiting.
And then one comes along,
With a face so tranquil, an umbrella in hand
With a gentle smile, a firm grip
One true to oneself
One without a mask
And I close my eyes, and feel the warmth of the sun peaking behind the blue clouds