Bloom daily.
They open at the crack of dawn
Wide and purple
They turn to each other and to the sun
Reach up, out to the garden below
They are gentle and strong but they don't last

Grown weary in the sun, they close
wilted and white, grasping at the last pink pigment as it fades
By 2 o'clock today, they've shriveled and closed

But they will reopen tomorrow
and perhaps
last a little longer then