each winter the flowers die
and it is in those months
of brittle stems and browning leaves
that I begin to lose my ability
to imagine the bright petals that I know will refill that garden come May
the marigolds will appear to have been lit on fire
and enveloped in the flames
the vivid tulips will appear too colorful
to truly be growing from the earth we walk on
and the daisies will appear to have their small yellow halos perfectly placed
an the middle of their fragile white wings
and from May only more will grow
but that winter
like all winters
the flowers will die
and it will become hard to imagine what they will look like come May
