Posted in Gracie's Glimmer, Poetry From A Woman Who Thinks Too Much

Petals

 

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Proud and bright
you hang.
Petals, firm and strong.
Then, one by one,
damaged petals
start to fall.
One by one,
till blooms
form a mountain
of red petals on
the cement floor.
Petals fall
as lovers argue
destroyed by
neglect and time
until love’s light
goes out
and velvet petals
wither on the floor
as quietly, they die.
A little water
a little kiss
a smile, a hug.
Nope, didn’t happen.
So one plus one
who once were two,
are now alone.
Each too proud
to clean the mess
or to pick up
the phone.
Petals fall,
o
ne by one
by two.

by Jeanne Marie

 

 

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