Now isn’t that just like us
To climb through bramble and brush
Through thorn and thistle
Sweat singeing our eyes
And salting our wounds
Till we see it in the shade of an old tree
Dew drops falling from distant leaves
Into the violet petals
Twisted and springy stem
Flares of color from within
And the scent of a lullaby
So calmly is sways
Not from the breeze
But from the chirping of the treefrog
And the pattering toes of fellow fauna
The petals are a champagne glass
Caressing crystal water inside
Suddenly, a snap
The green stem squirms and shivers
As the blade snips through
Violet colors violated
As liquid spills to the forest floor
Awakening the dust
Into a muddy spatter
The flower sprayed with aerosol
Laminated
Cut with orange handle scissors
And left to the darkness between pages
With a cover titled
“Exotic Flora”
And despite chemical treatment
The petals fade to grey
At a glance – snow
At another – ashes
Now isn’t that just like us

-Galwyn

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