Flowers Plight
Green leaf so fresh, tangy, and sharp.
Clear breeze through willows reverberating
Like the strands of a silenced harp.
Time passes; flower slowly grows
To open into the full beauty of spring,
Into spring itself. Young, unmarred by
Sorrow, grace glowing from forming rings
Of a drop dripping into a pool of water.
Stillness. The bloom opens into its right,
To be plucked by a bee, the hive container
Its home; no one knowing Flower's plight,
Drooping, it stands in fetid waters. Stagnation.
Its sweetness, innocence... scent turns to rot,
Green leaves. Blossoms becoming frail with age.
Knowing nothing. Short fullness of life to an empty plot
Of land ungrowing. There are no more flowers there.
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witless WRIT LIT
~ by me
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Poetic Fabrications
Short Somethings
© Anna Vo
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