Fate of Flower
Flattered, you preen, your seeds strewn,
you dance with abandon, forgetting the tune.
To be a flower, a profound task.
To live forever the undoable ask.
Once accepted, your only role
is paying the Piper his agreed upon toll.
Shoots rise in the midnight moon
each bud opening, as you are pruned.
In life’s short glory did you idle,
a season of delight, yet ecocidal.
10 thoughts on "Fate of Flower"
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What a great poem about a flower’s life. I especially love “In life’s short glory did you idle,
a season of delight, yet ecocidal.”
Thank you! Ecocidal is a new word to me but it said what I meant and it rhymed so— bonus!
Didn’t know ecodidal so looked it up. Great word and bonus!
You’ve beautifully captured the flower, its fleeting beauty, and the price nature demands in turn.
Thank you!
This is so wonderfully crafted! Thanks for sharing it.
Thank you!
The rhymes work so well! The ending really sticks the landing.
Thank you! My writing group here in Irvine gave me homework— to write with more structure and I’m struggling with it so I appreciate your encouragement.
ahhh….a lesson for us all :Flattered, you preen, your seeds strewn,/you dance with abandon, forgetting the tune.”