Thursday, January 11, 2007

Practicing It's Winter Song

Pick me,
Pick me...
Over here,
amidst the muck and dregs
of leftover summer.
I bloom...
my petals snowy white,
emerging from a blazing yellow center.
I await your fingers.
Pick me,
Pick me
slip my lacy green stem
from hand to water,
touch my leafy soul and feel it quiver.
Pick me,
Pick me
Make my fall grandeur
the centerpiece of your table.
Pick me,
Pick me
I am the last bud to crawl out of the creases
of this wet earth,
brown and hard and cold
practicing its winter song
all around me.
Pick me
Pick me..........
Bring me home.


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