Fresh summer tears
Running down an English cheek
Checking his watch
For the millionth time this week
Walking by him slowly
A mere glance his way
Waving her scarf at a cab
As she had done everyday
Petal by petal the delicate flowers fall
Between the cracks of the London streets
Fading from lovely yellow to grey ash
Shriveling up under busy bustling feet
Fresh summer tears
Running down an English cheek
Waving her scarf
For the millionth time this week
Outreaching slowly
She dares grab his eye
Chokes back her tears
Gives out a slight sigh
Her scarf blows from her fingertips
With its red blue shades it flutters
Like a butterfly fresh from its cocoon
Lands delicately on grey shudders
