AS THE ASTER BLOOMS
IN THE MISTY WINTER BUT DISAPPOINTED WITH THE PASSING OF BREEZE. A LOT DISTINCT FROM
OTHERS, BUT I COULD
BARELY SEE HIS EYES IN THE MESS OF THAT CHILL WEATHER.
STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT HE HAD
SUPPRESSED IN THIS HEART. PURPLE ASTER REMINDS
ME HIS BLUSHING CHICKS WHEN THE WIND BLOWS AWAY THE MIST. HE USE TO RUN SLOWLY
THROUGH THE SILENT STREET. AND I REMEMBER THAT
HOWLING OF CANINES. HE LEFT UNNOTICED AS THE WINTER SUDDENLY FADED INTO SPRING. NOT A SINGLE TRACE OF HIM IN SUMMER AS ASTER LOOSES IT’S PETALS CHARMINGLY
AND GOES AWAY.
_HE LEFT UNSEEN_
