Poem in search of a flower

Published July 5, 2012 by rlmcdermott

You are a flower
growing on the
side of a hill
held up only by
the wind. Your
season is short
and there is no rest.
You are beautiful
every minute,
every hour,
every day
of your brief life;
you cannot escape
from being beautiful,
it wears you down.
Every eye claims you–
the bee,
the bird,
the beetle
and even the sun
braiding the tall grass
like a young girl’s hair.

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