don’t blossom here, flower,
close up, go back inside. don’t reach,
for your sun, don’t open your petals
wide. don’t smile, or believe, or
speak your fuschia dreams.
he’ll pick you if you bloom just right,
grip you, rip you, wilt your hue,
until a lovelier one blooms, and he will
drop you. pick her. pick her. pick her.
you’ll be lying on the ground, with no
way to grow. wither. hold your blooms,
dear flower, let him pick no more.
Talking to the Clouds 
stunning Sarah.
thank you so much
bloom
~
if no one
is
looking
🙂
Lovely and bittersweet. The photo is stunning:)
thanks ~ it was so beautiful. i sat there for hours.
When blooms silently cry … beautiful post, thank you.
thank you for reading, and for your kind words
Beautiful poem, Sarah.
thank you, Pepper
Made me wonder how long one should wait because of fear…just my interpretation of the parts of the poem.
Thank you for commenting. I didn’t see it as being about fear; I see it as being about taking control of your own life, not letting someone else taking control of it for you.
Lovely Sarah!
Thanks, Dawn 🙂
this is terrific, Sarah. a superb allegory. best wishes from baldy 🙂
Thanks so much 🙂
Your writing speaks out loud. That was awesome! I’m so glad you stopped by my blog, so that I can experience yours.
Love & Light to you!