My Secret Place. Well, secret in my eyes. It’s the only place I can go when I need to be alone. Alone with my thoughts, The leaves made the perfect hiding place from the sun. hiding behind the clouds. It was so quiet. I miss her hair, long and flowing. Nothing but the blowing wind, sweaty skin calloused by a hard day’s work, the flowing river, her embrace, gentle as a cloud’s touch. the singing birds and her beating heart pressed against my ear. Now, the sun is shining, I can almost hear her voice. but the leaves are all gone. It’s nothing like our kissing tree back home, It’s still quiet. but it’ll do for now. The water blowing, the breeze flowing, Now her heartbeat is miles away. the birds singing sweetly. Oh, what I would give to be in her arms again. What was it you said about the birds? No, not you, the other you. Listen to the birds, you said. You looked like autumn then, Listen to the birds but summer hadn’t even ended yet! and watch out for the animals. So pathetic. Smell the flowers, the irises, You lost so many. the lilacs, You had every right to cry. the peonies Even your brother was crying! Oh, yes, the peonies! embrace their aroma. A childless father! Your favorite. Yet the strength of a smile carried you. Look up at the stars. Is that where we’re going? What was it like standing in the Goodbye Room? Listen to the laughter of the children. Watch out! The place where you said goodbye to your lover, Just take it all in. where you said goodbye to your master, Stop and look around you. and where they all said goodbye to you Listen closely. There’s more magic to come. But speaking of flowers, The poppies. isn’t it funny? The poppies! How flowers can mean so many things. Remember the poppies! Lovers worship the red rose She likes blue ones, while yellow ones make good friends. Poppies remember. Orchids are so thoughtful. as you drifted to sleep in your mother’s Peonies are so honorable. Poppies put him to sleep. Marigolds are strong. If his father had let him stay, Stars are the flowers of the heavens. He wouldn’t have set out to sea. Sometimes, I like to think He wouldn’t have come home crying. there’s a star for everyone, If his mother had said something, and someday, Then he wouldn’t have fallen asleep in the poppy field. we’re all going I’m ashamed to have ever called her “auntie” to go back there.