The forget-me-nots
lie trapped in the congealed
wax rainbow on the sidewalk
where the candles
guttered out
past midnight.
And the hearts and prayers
lovingly chalked,
scuffed away
by squads of martial boots,
casual flats,
and track shoes.
A photograph held fast to the cobbles
by a drop of blood red wax
cuddles the image of
a young couple standing
under a summer trellis
in tux and gown.
She clutches six white
roses in one hand, her fingers
entwined with his in the other.
An empty paper cappuccino cup
rolls back and forth between
a broken candle and
the handle of a small umbrella
with bent ribs and ruptured spine,
the thin fabric embellished
with the face of some
caped hero
who never saves the day.
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