August was an array of affection
The cars of family and friends streamed into your garden of brugmansias
Which, like you, bloomed at night as you enjoyed a cup of jasmine tea
September smelled like musk
It wrapped around an ethereal dream
Your garden was characterized
By tire marks of the cars that had left
A cavalcade of memories
October was cold and hazy
It was sterile
I held your hand inside of the hospital room for the last time
While you murmured reaffirmations
That will be passed to generations
Competing interests
The author declares no conflicts of interest.
