August 18th, 2019

'Life is a stream on which we strew petal by petal the flower of our heart
The end lost in dream
They float past our view, we only watch their glad, early start. Freighted with hope, Crimsoned with joy, We scatter the leaves of our opening rose; Their widening scope,
Their distant employ we never shall know.
And the stream as it flows sweeps them away, each one is gone ever beyond into infinite ways.
We alone stay while years hurry on, The flower fared forth, though its fragrance still stays'.

​Amy Lowell