does not complain or whine
or try to make her life
anything other than it is:
she drinks up the new rain,
dances in the wind, skirts flying;
opens her heart to the sun
and stands, unbending,
as her petals fall,
dropping like tears
to fade into the grass
and feed the soil,
then with a careless toss of her head
flings out her seeds so others may enjoy
the purple wonder that will adorn
some future garden.
No comments:
Post a Comment