LW Poetry

This feature showcases original poems by members of the Creative Writers Club of Leisure World and other GRF members. Send poems to emmad@lwsb.com.

The Last One Flower

A roadside Plumeria in a village with grayhaired folks, Throughout midsummer, which spans two or more months, Pinned a pretty flower onto the right temple of each woman Heading to the town. As the blue wind rustled The neighbors leave, one by one, from the twigs A sole flower stands alone, shedding a sweet fragrance.

All may murmur about how it has been so.

If we cannot date anymore someday, Chat with each other about the past.

—Robert Chung, Mutual 4