Stained Flowers

March 25, 2011
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The red-spattered violet flowers glistened-

not with dewy droplets that frost the leaves at dawn,

not with rain that had trickled though the brush last dusk,
but rather with a substance
brighter & warmer than a cloud’s creation.

No, this shower came from a storm of
rage and devotion.

The gardener lashed out,
like and overprotective mother guarding her young.

And there lie that stealing and mischievous rabbit-

murdered and rotting.

And the gardener cursed the breeze
for staining her flower bed.

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