Wilted Petals


Photo by Jorge Rosal on Unsplash

The flowers are wilting, dropped leaves dry

on my sun-drenched table

The scent fading, a descendant of itself

In the room it no longer caresses,

I pluck a half-lusty bloom, press it into my journal

The bouquet bursts back to life, almost

And I remember that discovery + enjoyment + release

Is a whole story

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