that plant the baby seed
can trample over it
beneath their feet.
It hasn't arms or legs
to hold it in place.
It's only a freckle
without a face.

The hands
that sprinkle the thirsty soil
with clear, crisp cool water
can drown it in
its bathwater.

The hands
that grows the bulging flower
can pull it from the rising sun
to set it in a glass that sits
silently on the cherry wood table
and see it droop, as grandpa's skin
as days pass -
withering