Tuesday, September 11, 2018

my flower friend

there’s this flower that stares at me
when i walk outside to greet the day
Its golden pedals and a crimson smile
stands at attention in its Spring attire

i sit in front of it without words spoken,
quiet and still, we both stare at each other
in reflection until dusk veils o’er our faces
and then the moon, at us, glances

when summer warms our dress and we
awaken, one glistening in dew the other
in sweat, both still awaken with aspirations
to praise the day under the sun’s array

so then when the cool of Autumn arrives
it asks of us to change into our Fall display
we embrace its request and welcome the
season and change into the color of russet

soon the cool winds will blow and in the
cold, my friend’s golden pedals will drop
to lay down and sleep and so too my soul
will take a reprieve in the Winter’s gray  

and i shall, in the quiet of my room, sit
before the mirror in reflection with arms
folded like golden pedals, cheeks on my
face turned crimson from Winter’s cold,
will become, within, my friend the flower



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