All Was Peace
by Odin Roark

Traveling window to window
served only to reflect
what once was.

Seashell after seashell
to his ear brought nothing,
save the beat of his fading heart.

No matter the food or drink,
only the salt of his tears
roused palate’s reception.

To touch fallen rose petals
brought only remembrance
of her velvet lips long past.

His park bench solitude
amidst summer rain fragrance,
now but memory’s redolence.

Such became sensory’s demise,
life’s reaching tendrils exploding,
dispersing the ravens atop
winter’s darkened dawn.

All was peace.