She was beautiful in the light of blue, loose of dress in fall. In gaze on her in the summer light, he thought of the chicory, full-in bloom-in summer-pass on way to the cedar lane and home hidden in the trees. As chicory that bloomed but for one day, or hour, one had to catch precisely in the moment to view in all its beauty—her bloom was evanescent.
Knowing, adored her all the more. For, from the bloom, further life would come—seeded life for further season; another bloom, another beauty, Creation’s Wonder living on.
Hand stroked and moved her fall of hair as she smiled in light—alive in her mirth and love of moment near fruition of its end.
She was lovely in the light of blue, loose of dress in fall, and too in beauty underneath—evanescence of living bloom.