Carmine flowers with yellow delicate centers
Guarded by sharp-tipped thorns that pierce deep
Resting upon brown thin bark-covered reaching branches
Rain covered veined green leaves

Breeze blown petals soft pink, mutated and light
Dance daintily through the air on their final flight
On gentle downdrafts, floating before they kiss the ground
Shunning all finalities fanfare
Without the slightest sound

In their pageantry of elegance and depths of fiery red
Crimson blush life ebbing as the sun pursues its bed
Rising comes the ashen moon lifting her head
The lifeless pale florets lay strewn about faded and dead.


All Right Reserved @Tammy M. Darby Sept. 28, 2019.
All Material Stored in Author Base.