She Lays Flowers

She lays flowers by a green painted fence.
Others lay them too, but not so often now.
They tell her,
stop, but she knows he can sense
she lays flowers.

Today she leaves tulips and a quiet vow;
he will be close. A meagre recompense –
to please, appease the nodding heads that bow.

Done deeds stay spent; erased in lost laments.
No second chance; no turnabout allowed.
The green stays green. The fence remains a fence.
She lays flowers.

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