by David Thompson No news for several days: I went to the florist anyway. An armful of flowers means love in any language: new buds, odours, colours, fresh beauty shared. But if today was different? Outside the shop, sun hit the blooms. As I paused, a butterfly slipped through a gap in time, danced a last poem, and settled softly on a white cyclamen to tell me I was too late. When I got home, a message said you'd left my world that morning. * * * David Thompson was a translator, interpreter, editor and publisher with the UN and WHO in New York, Bangkok and Geneva. He has since published two poetry collections: Days of Dark and Light (2021) and Where The Love Is (2023).
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