[this piece is a work of promoted fiction- the photo inspires the writing]
A wind rips through, sometimes biting, sometimes balmy, a trick of the season’s march towards winter. The heyday of summer is long passed though the days still invite sun-soaked lazy moments. Beside a rickety lounge chair, a worn celadon pot with streaks of terracotta rests on gravel, a mini oasis forming a brief haze.
Bright heads of Rudbekecia hirta shine upwards as their sunshine petals curl downwards. On one, rustling tugs gently at a petal, its cellulose fibres holding this one moment long ago where harsh words are exchanged. A step too far, an unnecessary barb that inflicts a stabbing pain in the receiver. The petal floats, swaying on the breeze, and drifts lazily to the ground, dispersing the harsh words into the hot stones.
In another petal with a brown tinged tip resides the excitement of their dreams, the path forward that sparks unimaginable joy. But it is wrapped up in layers of No, in obligation. A path not taken. This petal too lets go, leaping to the ground with the wild abandon of knowing there is more time. It’s not too late.
Long hours into nightfall are spent at a desk, a commute away from a home encased in laugher and joy. A reconciling of Must and doing what is necessary, this petal shivers at the shifting breeze, a hint of the chill to come. Shivering so hard it falls, no longer needed, the petal touches down with a sigh.
The remaining petals each hold a person with whom more time could be spent in companionship and love. Tiny pieces of connection all waiting. One falls, an acknowledgement that different choices can be made. The rest hold on as reminders that kith and kin can come and go and missing them may just be the deepest regret of all.
Listen on YouTube
The last line “kith and kin can come and go and missing them may just be the deepest regret of all” definitely pulled on the heart strings.