The arrival

Through the flower bloom scenery 

She submarines

The thorns on the stems wrapped her feeble feet 

Before the gloominess sinks in 

Constricts her throat with blood ripped teeth 

Swept her off the island's sacred story 

She never finds her bearings

No one ever sees

But she could hear her miniature lungs 

Slowly depleting

In relation with flowers and trees intertwined with the most subtle emotion of a human being.

A.T.

2/12/2014