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Birthday Flowers

The gesture was too big.
A card and a few kind
Words would have sufficed.
Or a second hand book
So, I put them outside
In the spring afternoon.
And they lie there,
Unreachable.

A single rose
Entreats for help,
Wanting to live.
Not understanding the cut.
I take it out,
Vase and water it.
It has a few days
At the most.

The alstroemeria
Look relieved,
In their plastic
Wrapping.
Joyful in the temporary.
Impatient and fatuous
In their blankness.
At once smothering
And transient.
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1 comment

Steve Bucknell said:

The processing covers flowers and poem. I like the way things look when they’ve been crumpled and then flattened out: postcards, photos, foreheads, that kind of thing.
10 months ago