In spring, my mother
would send us to the park
to pick linden flowers for tea.
Today, sitting in the shade,
I thought I heard her calling,
but it was only a breeze.
exiles child
Poems
In spring, my mother
would send us to the park
to pick linden flowers for tea.
Today, sitting in the shade,
I thought I heard her calling,
but it was only a breeze.
exiles child 
This is beautiful and poignant. The flowers are picked (and thus pass away), as has your mother, who’s voice seems to be carried on the breeze. I came across your blog due to your posting (today) on Vita Brevis, and I look forward to reading more of your work. Kind regards – Kevin
Thanks very much.
Touching poem.
Thank you. I’m glad you enjoyed it.
Beautiful. Linden leaf is a symbol of Slovenia. And its tea heals everything.
It sure does. Thanks.