brushing the larger of the dewdrops from the park
bench,
she longed for linden blossoms, pink tea roses,
and the softness of a london rain

once, starlings perched on rooftops and fog swirled
'round chimney-tops and mist fell softly
as bells, chiming in faraway hills

she kept company with a sleeping dove, snugly nestled
beneath the branches of a sprawling dogwood,
on sandy pebbles and fallen petals

the sun began to rise, creating tall shadows
and long, dark silhouettes of trees
as dew dried on crisp, green leaves

mist rose, and the warmth fell in gold
over fresh grass, drying tears,and shining
on the faces of concrete angels 

(c) Cynthia D'Adamo