wildflowers, they live too

i want my flower to live, i want to watch it be alive

Flowers, they live too. 

out in the field,

my eyes are hungry for the wildflowers.

one, two, three, infinite,

i take count of how many there are.

which one will fit best in my flower pot?

one little flower catches my gaze:

orange like the sun setting in this moment,

with streaks of subtle pink that add to it's elegant charm.

my eyes are now full.

this is the one.       

 i tear it's stem.

it rests behind my ear for the walk home.

in the flower pot it stands.

i sit, staring at my new treasure.

disappointed.

it is not as pretty as it was in it's field.

 it is wilted, and seems sad. 

but why are you now so... lifeless, my wildflower?

because honey, you tore my whole life away - whispered it's spirit.

-S.M

Reviews

[wordman]

sounds like a love story,you know the one don~t u ?

[emmajoy]

So it goes, rip anything from its rightful place and it dies. Being a landscape designer and long time wanderer, i flinched when i read the word 'tear'! But,my sadness was not merely for that flower
but for you- obviously loving the outdoors but.. for once - maybe, forgetting the sacred rule, 'with understanding, live and let live. '

Noneetheless this is a finely written and displayed poem. You have a keen eye for luring the reader, and - for catching an unintended moment. Will come back to read more.