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A Flower Fallen

I watch a flower fall from its
bough buoyed softly by the
breeze before it lands in the grey,
soulless dust; And with no
leaves to shade it I watch it wilt
into paleness under
the sun's bleaching malevolence;
I watch a wee puppy
toss it in play, then tire and
seek newer diversions;
I watch a young girl walking by
contemplate it, but it's
too pale, too shrivelled to add to
her pretty merriness;
A botanist comes by seeking
specimens, but this one
is torn and damaged - I watch him
toss it aside and look
to the tree above with its fresh
blooms - more perfect in form;
I watch at last a lover pick
it and tear it apart
petal by petal - she loves me,
she loves me not -; at last,
I trample its remains into
the earth - let it dissolve
into elements to emerge
newborn, when I come by
as it blossoms again next spring.