Sparrows fluttered from tree to tree,
Gave impression of being a soft breeze.

White roses, lipstick streaked by the maiden
Who milk mornings.

Sharp thorns clawed at my lips when I tried to
Kiss and inhale her perfume.

Lemon juice stung, but healed my broken heart,
Petal snowed.

She crossed the yard with a pail of dew,
Ignored my silent appeal.