If Life Was Like a Poem

Wall Flower

Next to the old brick wall
by the side
of the road
grows one, single flower
a pale, pale pink
with a hint of gray
sprouting spring
in mid May
grows beside the wall
as close as its roots
will allow it to grow
the wall of the abandonded church
a sheild to the west
oh how the flower
grows safely there
rising tall
and spreading its petals
but
never out of reach
of the shelter of the wall
the pink flower
wilts
as all flowers do
in the time of colored rain
and shrill air
salt white crystals
now sparlkle the ground
pulling the flower
weighing it down
in one single move
the
flower
slowly
falls
wrapped in a silent ice blanket
the flower lies still
next to the
wall
once a protection
now a skeleton
a reminder
a stamp
on what is
and what is to come
then a yellow
flood
unfolds the flower
unmasking the wall
giving purpose once more
as the petals spread
the wall rises
and the sun
spills
over
a wall flower
once more