Dead Flowers
Dead flowers in the trees
fall from branches
like the blood from broken lips.
Dead flowers in the grasses,
petals curling
like the legs of upturned spiders.
Dead flowers on the sidewalk,
sun-scorched and bleaching
like the unfortunate wayward slug.
Dead flowers in a hand,
anchored with a burden
like the bones of buried loved ones.
Dead flowers on a tablet,
the memory of color fading
like the whispers lost in wind.
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About Wesley D. Gray
Wesley D. Gray is a writer of things mostly strange. He is an Active member of the Horror Writers Association, a member of the Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association, an author of fiction, and a poet. His first two books include Come Fly with Death: Poems Inspired by the Artwork of Zdzislaw Beksinski, and the horror novel, Feeding Lazarus (originally published as Rafe Grayson).
When he isn't working, Wesley enjoys geek status while claiming to be: a tabletop gamer, a reader, a dreamer, a veteran, a Trekkie, a Whovian, an amateur photographer, a radiographer, nature-lover, coffeeholic, boxed wine enthusiast, and an all-around nice guy, among other things. He resides in Florida with his wife and two children.
Also connect via:
* WesDGray.com
* Twitter: @wesdgray
* Facebook.com/wesleydgray.writer
* Goodreads.com/WesleyDGray
* Instagram.com/marrowroot
View all posts by Wesley D. Gray
Marrowroot 
May 27th, 2012 at 1:53 pm
That was an excellent post today. Thanks for sharing. I really enjoyed it very much.
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