Too Much Alone
It stood alone potbound on a ledge -
wild and unapologetic.
This proud,presumptuous flower
would wince
at the very prospect of a pollen grain molest,
or of an admiring glance -
taking it whole root to tip.
In the raw of a nature manifest.
And so it remains
anti-social,uncaring,arrogant.
Forgetting how to share itself.
Certainly no flighty sort
dare pollinate this flower
or scoop its nectar gone sour.
For its active role in creation -
better dead!
Without tribute,too much alone -
it withers gradual in a heap.
Its only spouse - the soil
in bountiful riches once more,
absorbs the last dissolving leaf.
Inaction - no falsifying now!
Forgotten without trace,without love.
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