Hiraeth (Repost)

The aging blind man at the florist's
Recalls his vision, his statue'd youth.

Here, the sensation of scent
Is a meadow of heartache
When days were alive as this bouquet.
Nostalgic now to go / see his love

Alas when sight was fragrant...

He carries her lilies out the door,
Old and blind,
A man holding on to all memories
Of bright before’s.

Alas when life was fragrant…