Because Flowers Die…

by Liz

Bouquet

Wrapped in soggy waxed tissue paper
Patterned in silver toile
Five blossoms and a sprig of something green
 
Two daisies spoked in white
Golden centers plush with garden dew
Forget-me-nots cluster in a posy
Blue and white                                                                                               
One crushed against another frantically
Eager faces peering out from beneath
A blazing poppy
On a long
Long
Stem
The petals flared like the hem
Of a devil’s gown
Scarlet velvet speared with lemon
And a black-flocked moon between
A burgundy rose, edges crimped
The petals soft and cupped
Around the center of tangled knots
 
Hidden under these living silks
The broad-leafed green
And supple branch of belladonna curls
Blackened berries ripe
Peering eyes glowing in the night
 
The paper rustles in my hand
And flecks of silver paint
Flake
With a broken petal or two
As I present this flowery gift
To the poet
The muse
And scarlet-lettered
You

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