THE FLOWER
by Robin Shwedo
©: Robin Shwedo, 1970s
I picked a flower today.
It was in a field of tall, green grass.
I had been laying there,
watching the clouds take shape,
and,
upon getting up to leave,
there it was!
In a scattered group of yellow daffodils
and wild red roses
was a single white flower -
bigger,
more beautiful than the rest.
And now,
inside,
it is only
a pretty flower
in an otherwise
bare room.
Written during the 1970s. Sometimes, it's best just to leave beauty where it's found.
This is part of my collection titled Poetry Unassigned, which is looking for a publishing home.
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