“Winter teetered on the verge of succumbing to the returning sun, but today the breeze still preferred the touch of snowflakes.” ― Rue, An Average Curse

 When I am gone and only a

glowing thread of memory,
look for me in the cool grass,
in the blue of the sky,
in the dry breath of the earth,
in a white cloud or a black cloud,
you will find me in everything I loved,
in the restless buzzing of the bee,
in the immaculate white of the asphodel,
in the violet petal of the steppe,
in the orchids, the thyme and the rosemary,
in the yellow albaida
or in the pearly foam of the almond tree,
because love and beauty cannot die
as long as someone loves us and remembers us.

~Matilde López Pérez