A little boy and little girl stood Quietly to the curb sweeping At flowers that never really Swept back. They gathered them gingerly Like newborn saplings. Petals, I may add, wilting ever So steadily on cement floors. Blown Off branches by wind and Made to dance on thorny ground. They Remind me of us. Flowers one, All wilting on the cold hard Earth. Fallen petals from home. From home. Swaying each and every One. Like little boys and Little girls plodding hand in hand In unison.