The Odour Of Withered Leaves

She rests all the time in her garden laying out a mat under a shady tree A flask of tea stands behind and a book of poetry that will never finish. 'Once she had been a beauty queen now passing a solitary life; a widow and childless. Recently she celebrated her fiftieth birthday only with her gardner. The silence ringing her ears and she heard a whispering of grass and withered leaves. a decayed leaf cries; once she had a smooth skin golden spreading lines, thick flesh as jelly how many dew drops remained and kissed butterflies, bees and hornets slept now a skeleton; good for nothing but a photographer may seeks' She got shocked; like a rabbit cold as marble finally she decided to get a divorce from her lonliness and marry the old gardener.