Petals of Memory

Time sows orchids on the walls of the still city,
traffic holds its breath, a nailed-down sail,
petals unfold hours without echo in cracks and trembling light,
and a scent perfumes the memory that will not break.
Every petal bears a name etched in the glass of dusk,
Maria, Giovanni, Ada, names that once walked here,
the rain writes them out like alphabet upon the stone,
and the city holds its breath to hear the past.
On the facades, orchids turn into novels of black and white,
a scent that weaves silence, a secret line of hidden poetry,
who passes leaves a shadow changing hue at sundown,
time, patient, allows the names to live upon the wall.