Sunday, March 28, 2010

Bouquet

With heads ablaze
And bursting blooms
They sit in a silent grace
Collected in an ethereal way

Turning heads slowly towards
An emerging sun
And the diurnal course

Balanced most precariously
In their near decay

In reverence
I give pause
Stopping
In a mourning way
To note
The driest petals
To which once clung the sweetest dew.

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