Blooming red roses
Garlands of poinsettias
Bunches of lilies
Offered with both hands
On delivery to various destinations
In different gardens
In various seasons
In the gardener’s hands
At the florists
Tender
Colorful
Glorious
Vibrant
Crushed under your boot
Without regard
With force
And you didn’t even look
where you went
Unknowingly
or cunningly
Intentionally
or otherwise
Brusquely
They bore the brunt of your anger
You say they are only flowers
If they are so meaningless
Why do I hurt so
Why does their scent linger
Hauntingly, in the air?
Juliet Maruru said,
September 11, 2008 @ 3:53 pm
Poinsettias honey? truly only you can whip up the names of flowers that the average kenyan girl has to google to figure out which they are!