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Two spring blooms, paper skinned and delicate
found themselves breaking frozen soil
on opposite sides of the yard.
Easily bruised and blown by the wind
they stole glances at each other through green grasses 
too tall to afford them a clear view.
The one by the crackled orange pot
thought the other's color quite attractive
and vibrant against the bluing sky
The one by the humming bird feeder
thought the other's stem to be strong
and able to resist the wind's breath.
As days went on, they both dreamed dreams of each other
filled in mostly by imagination
since mere glimpses were the reality of things.
The sun asked for their perfume as a gift to the air
and both, quite flattered, released to the wind
violet, orange peel, candied breath mixed with the dust of earth.
For the first time, they sensed each other in full
the one leaning toward the other
with a desire uncommon amongst flowers.
Summer watched and waited for the perfect moment.
Bees visited each flower and carried pollen on yellow legs.
For the first time, they tasted each other and smiled.
Summer still watched, still waited.
Then, when the yearning was at it's finest, 
and their petals were on the verge of passing their prime,
Summer let loose it's rain.  
Rain to grow the grass still higher.
Rain to crowd out the glimpses and push the yearning to a new level.
Rain which brought the human legs to the garden with the big machine.
All at once, the grass was cut.
The two flowers, having lived a life of imagination with each other,
turned for the first time with a clear view.
What they saw was shocking.
Two common dandelions about to be blown to swirls in the wind.
No more, no less. 
With what they imagined one another to be, cut away with the grass
they both turned toward the more important task of holding their own lives
never to dream of one another again.
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