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