I was a summer blossom
given away;
walking before a tear-scented Wedding Train,
inside an arm-locked processional,
with attending musical strains,
rose petal aisled
marriage vows.
My Dad finally breathed-
not wanting to release
but willed himself.
Love leaves that autumn-
mixing then
separations
and matrimonies,
ironies
and cleavings,
all falling gently
from his tree;
floating
evolving-
winging
paradoxes
and meanings-
leaf rustlings stirring;
signaling
someone's winter
and someone's spring.
Dad cries.
Daughter loves
both autumn leaves
and summer blossomings-
a gardenia scent
in the heavy air
falls quietly-
memory
stroked;
still trembling.