The fresh cut grass;
with no sign of mourn.
The sunshine’s out,
with no sign of mourn,
and no sound of rain greeting my greenhouse.
The tulips peak,
and meet the droplets of water.
The sunshine’s out,
with no sign of mourn,
just her smile.
I gaze into the distance;
she lay under the sun.
No sound of a sort,
and no sign of mourn;
just a quiet morning.
Author bio:
Simran Saul is a third-year university student, who studies English and Creative Writing, at Newman University, Birmingham, UK. Amongst many genres, Simran writes flash fiction and non-fiction pieces, alongside short poems.
Photo by Chris Lawton on Unsplash