NaPoWrimo Day 30

 

A little hope (Cento)

 

I saw you in green velvet, wide full sleeves

as the Sun withdrew his rays from the garden.

I'll only stop to rake the leaves away.

The sorrow of riverside blossoms inexplicable.

 

What house, the jade flute that

sends these dark notes drifting,

carefully stepping into a season of fever.

I'm still in the forest, darkening

wishing I were 'nicer.'

 

Maybe, Rose, there is always another story,

lift my heart as spring lifts up-

a yellow daisy to the rain,

as if the moon had flowered.

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