Sunday Walk:::Cogon Grass

The cogon grass was not there anymore. It was neatly mowed already. It occupied the empty lot, just beside the condo, which was not really empty because it was there.

Perhaps Bruce had not noticed it was gone. It was just too perfect, too beautiful, dancing with its tubelike white flowers in the tune of the descending sun.

Yet it is a was. And it will take another four or five Sunday walks before I will see it. Again.