Coroneola an old Latin word
A kind of autumn rose
A heart and a hello
Now unseen unheard
Aeneas must have known it
Helen wore it in her hair
A color and an odor
Dissolving in the air
Back when there was only
Blue and red the other
Colors waiting to be bled
The Coroneola sang in autumn
As it must have once to me
Still living heart among the dead
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