|
| |
Flower
flowers that have flourished in winter
made beautiful in the frost,
from the same chilling breeze they have grown lost.
one flower stands out in its sunny meadow,
the other still frozen in a field,
envying the other flowers that get to grow along in that meadow,
waiting to be revealed.
every once in a while the pollen of the flower in the meadow blows the way of the frozen flower,
teasing the scent of a life that will never befall.
frozen in a field were the pain echos like an empty hall,
all thats left to do is wait for the seasons to dry,
but if you pick your favourite flower soon enough it will die.
Copyright ©
Robert Moran
|
|