My Mayflower

The crisp,
autumn evening.
Sun setting.

I look down.
My bare feet walk
the river bank.
The meadow's flowers
gently soothe the
soles. The low sun
warms my fragile frame
as if you were
with me.

A drop of purest white
catches in my
vision.
A mayflower.
I touch it's silky
petals, inhale it's
sweet aroma.
The familiarity too
much to bear.

I clung so tightly
to this delicate
life
as mine faded
from me. Never would
I let it go.

The first thing you ever
gave to me.
The last.

The rain falls,
first a teardrop
then the Heavens
open and with them
I am home.

My mayflower in my hand.
Let it fall.