a small improbable flower

She is a small improbable flower
opening, absorbing the warmth of the day
in this, the earliest hour
she is wondering what words she will say

It is a moment lost then found
as the digital clock rolls over and over again
these are no tears from a clown;
but the sad, sad reflection on a longtime friend

The one she loves, has loved forever
the closest she’s been to another on this earth
now waiting for the bonds to sever
dreaming, staring at the opposite end of birth

She loses the chill of morning
the sun tries to spread a smile across the sky
eyes closed, lids slightly warming
a tear escapes from the corner of her eye

She thinks on yesterday’s living
things that happened and things that didn’t
things that she should be giving
and the painful things that she just couldn’t

Fear becomes anger and distrust
of a world and life that could hurt a loved one
she feels her happiness corrode, turn to rust
like clouds scuttling in to choke off the sun

Today is different she wants to think
didn’t that come to mind this time yesterday?
like pebbles in water, she starts to sink
unlike herself; becoming more and more afraid

But she knows, like life, the day is this way
first morning then midday then afternoon then night
there is usually not much left to say
as it all cycles through sometimes just in spite

Tomorrow she is a small improbable flower
opening, absorbing the warmth of the day
in that, the earliest of hours
she will be wondering what words she will say

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