With eyes that no longer worked,
Fingers that felt it all.
The world at her fingers.
The gardens held it all.
The fragrance of roses,
Peonies were just as sweet.
Bumps in the cast iron bench,
She traced it.
She could visualize it.
She could feel it in the wind,
Long before the moisture met her skin.
She smiled as it ran along her cheek.
She tipped her head back,
It was cold on her tongue.
It was fresher than ever before.
The sound was an encompassing,
Dripping down the leaves,
Slapping the windows behind her.
Soon they would retrieve her.
They always did.
For now, she would enjoy the rain.
As she had in her youth.
About the Creator
E. W. Lynn
I love to read and am now beginning to enjoy writing.
I aspire to be a published author, as a hobby. I currently have 4 novel ideas going.
Wish me luck! :)
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