Light touches me as it comes touching their borders,
Shadows of their tender selves fall from their feathery bodies,
Inspiring my fingers to caress,
Spread here are… some wet petals…
They assume their mortal beuty,
May be with tears that cover them,
The Petals…some wet petals…
Abstract:- The author describes a scenario of an encounter with a small & beautiful cohort of petals , that inspires him to caress them. The petals, wet, could be wet with tears that the petals cry for their being mortal, the author wonders.