A Walk Through the Garden

Hope is

A ripple of fresh earth,

An eye of green.

Sunlight beckons

The eye becomes a yarn.

A sturdy stalk,

Thrusting toward the light.

Rain satiates,

And nourishes,

Until a bud becomes a bloom.

 

The pistil dances above the petals,

Firm and fibrous,

An extravagance of youth.

Warm breezes beget a searing stillness,

The firm wilts,

The fibrous softens.

The ellipsis of decay

Sends one petal afloat,

And then another,

Until only the withered stalk remains.

 

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