a greene beret

a soft wind blowing
flowing over hair
shoulders golden
return to the fair
a ride of riddles
a rooftop fiddles
and it shined…
" land hear "
she’s a gardener
they saw over there
bittersweet drops
approached
from the air
dark mane flowing
parks overgrown
“left to her stare”
caring alone
coming from air…
" she looked up "
what’s here?!
a light shining
climbing her eyes
sounds blinding
undoing what lies
" deafening "

she checked them inside….
" I like your bracelet "
a voice with no face said
and shifting her eyes
shaking her head
adjusting barrettes
unsure what she heard
" your earrings fine…"
they replied
" shocked to here tho…
you never died "