by Tara Monjazeb

It is quiet today in the garden,
but the petals sing their daily songs echoed in the whispering breeze
as they float towards the sparkling sea.

I am taller and so are the violets.
To grow together, kissed by sunbeams, is a good, tender thing.

Let them press our purple rays
into the blank pages of the new sky as proof
that we existed.