Primula Vulgaris

a quiet night as raindrops place, for which they grace

and forever chase.

but past the eve left much to leave, for drops upon her

sleeve.

a parting gift of moment kiss, knowing only there to miss.

Drops slip from petals of roses. Left with an expression before departure. Transformation in life upon death. Broken wings. He stood in the reflection, there was nothing he could do.