The Flower's First Frost

January 4, 2009
My sisters are gone.
Gray cotton grows to shield our glowing father.

The crystalline cold befriends gravity,
Trying to pull me down.

The sky weeps these shivering tears,
A silent sting with each graceful touch of my petals.

The hardened ground freezes my feet in their tracks,
I am starved and wilting.

The trees- they have lost all their cover.
What has become of my home?

I am lonely; I capsize under the glassy sheet.
But I, we, will be back next Spring.

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