My eyes follow the lines of the dates carved into her heart-shaped headstone.
"Eternally young, she enjoyed every moment to the fullest. To her, life was too short. There was no rewind, no replay. She poured herself out ... in devotion to life's fleeting moments of beauty ... that float in the air like fireflies...” Her favorite uncle, his face stricken with grief, tries his best to continue the speech in a steady voice.
blossom rain ...
we freeze at the sound
of a distant siren