Withered pedals on the ground
Dry of all life
Slowly the flowers follows the falling sun
It’s final bow to sunlight
No more pedals will grow
Soon it will be naked and on the ground
It’s body dried up
The world around them watching them die
The sun will rise again tomorrow
The flower will not
Day #370 SJD © 2021 Segundo Juan Devora. All Rights Reserved.
Segundo Juan Devora 