Dust

Vase                      full

of once-red roses

years browned, perfectly

dried. Plucked, all twelve of

them, from the very

expensive flower

arrangements

left  in  the

basement

of the

cr

em

at

ori

u

m

Polvo

Florero                       lleno

de rosas, en su día rojas,
volviéndose, hace años, cada
 vez más marrones, perfectamente
secas. Arrancadas, cada
una de las doce, de los
carísimos arreglos
florales dejados
en el sótano
del
cre
m
at
o
ri
o

Virulence

Strings of a violin snap.

Notes squeal the air

a thunderous shade of purple.

Teeth-snapping jaws

spew venom into the iron

scent of evisceration.

A frenzy of claws screech

across the eye of the hurricane,

through rollercoaster ruins.

Broken words take a victory lap,

having ruptured every eardrum.

It's National Poetry Month at home. From a poetry prompt called 'assay'.
Constructive comments, especially from poets, are most welcome.