Numbered

Magnolias broke out at below zero, blushed, hung on naked branches.

For one long year, half heartedly, I accepted defeat over the quarter you bet wearing a devilish grin.

With satisfaction, you drew an infinity on my wrist with wet finger, marked the beginning of a decade’s promises.

A dozen yellow roses wilted on the teak table where conversations, laughter and passion are still lingering.

The bare magnolia tree, shamefully, stretches out towards the winter sun.

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Author: Cassa Bassa

🇦🇺🇨🇳 inquisitive, observant, witty, a thinker, was a misfit child 😊

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