i trot into the garden per usual
where whirling verdant blades
and petals made of velvet
wave to greet me

as the sounds of spring spur me on
i cross through the morning fence
where my nurturing days will commence

welcoming such vibrancy in warmth
i shower these flowers with love
snuggle earthy soil firm at their bases
then place atop each one a honeyed kiss
since roots become restless
without something to miss

yes
i have done this for
each season’s pass
and soon i find myself
standing on tiptoes
at long last

refilling a bruised bucket
handle laced between my grip
i reach up
just a droplet they need
but miss

the sky blushes blue above them
a gentle gust guiding easy gaze
i look towards the smiling sun
tending to changes

realizing
i am the one
who withers away