The bouquet begins full,
each flower shouting out
its joy in a cacophonous
celebration of life energy.
Red! Green! Purple! Pink! Yellow!
Curls! Lushy lengthy limbs!
Spins and twirls and dazzledy-do!
But I prefer the end –
after some have drooped
and brown-edged their stinky
way to the compost heap
and only a few remain. This
morning it is a late blooming white
lily
now proudly alone
in a perfect holding vase
cut afresh and drinking fresh water
petals wide open as if to speak
but silent.
I sit
after the morning storm
of hurried leave-taking,
taking in her elegant
serenity.
