Gone with the wind

by Padmore Agbemabiese
(Columbus, Ohio, USA)

I met you
like when the rose I’m holding
was young and half-open to the sky
our eyes met but hardly spoke
and we went our different ways
like the rose I am holding
that once was young, fresh and white

many years have passed like the seasons
we were lost in the forest of droughts

many a time we walked
like rain trickling through pores of parched earth in the desert
our ears were awake the chimes of the wind

one day the Rain fell on our patched earth
and nourished everything
we met again

I remember the rose I held once in my hand
will the color change from white to red
sometimes I wonder if it still could be you
young fresh, and white
whether its soft petals will still be
so smooth and fragrant

will it move my heart again
like when it was young, fresh and white
with lips that are of tenderness
and bring home happiness

Oh! flowers wither as season change
petals fall to the ground when autumn winds blow
have the petals of my Rose gone with the Wind
shattered and gone with the wind...