I caught a glimpse of you among the hollyhocks,

In morning’s cold and creeping twilight pale,

A shadow cast where dawn’s first frost unlocks,

Your eyes soft-hid behind a misty veil.

You stood as once you did in summers past,

When laughter clung like ivy to our skin;

Now silence in each petal, dew held fast,

Where I recall the warmth of where you’d been.

Your hand reached out—a ghostly, gentle plea,

Yet I dared not disturb the winter’s air,

For fear my touch would break the reverie,

And leave me standing, lost, alone, and bare.

So let the hollyhocks bloom one last time,

Bright phantoms at the edge of dawn’s soft breath;

Where lovers lie, untouched by time’s cruel rhyme,

And love lingers, sweet even after death.