The Floral Guests

The Floral Guests




The blossoms flew upon the wind

and landed all around:

a few got caught among the leaves,

some finished on the ground,

and, trampled by the passers-by,

they were pink no more;

but others reached the balconies,

a couple for each floor.



A cleaning lady wiped them off,

without a second thought.

A child marveled at the blooms,

then tore the pinkish lot.

A man with dying cigarette

searched for the guilty tree,

and an old woman sighed and said,

"You're withered, just like me".




It was young mother rushing through

another crazy day

who smiled at the floral guests

before they flew away.


Irena Pasvinter




Irena Pasvinter divides her time between software engineering, endless family duties and writing poetry and fiction. Her stories and poems have appeared in online and print magazines (Ariel Chart, Bartleby Snopes, Bewildering Stories, Fiction 365 and many others). Her poem "Psalm 3.14159..." has been nominated for the Pushcart Prize. She is currently looking for a publisher for her first novel. Visit Irena at https://sites.google.com/site/ipscribblings.