I leaned over and picked up
the flower he had discarded.
The crumpled petals still soft like velvet
bore creases and bruises
from the punishing treatment.
I saw him walking,
red faced and somber
aimless and alone
as he was leaving the park.
She had told him she needed time.
He heard her say no--and
his impatience born of
self-absorption
completely belied his intent--
to express undying love for her.
The quarrel over, she retreated,
while the unsuspecting flower
bore the brunt of his aggression.
Pity him? Pity her?
It was beyond my power.
I only saw the flower.
And as I thought about it
through wet and thoughtful eyes
I saw the flower in my hands
loose its outer petals, one by one.
It's core untouched, like a miracle,
the once bruised and crumpled mass
turned into a beautiful bud once more
and smiled on me
with the last rays of the afternoon.

J. Sandy