Justice
Yesterday I blossomed from
a carnation-the workhorse of flowers-
plowing through dance recitals
and funerals, boutonnière after bouquet.
I have a hard time making
decisions, ascending from the stem.
My mask is my own face cleaved
in half: either path you chose,
you are always on both of them.
5 thoughts on "Justice"
Leave a Reply
You must be logged in to post a comment.
Beauty and truth within this poem! Nicely done!
Flowers are amazing
“My mask is my own face cleaved” is an incredible line & image.
Love this!
eternal bloom