Flower Poems
The flower snakes from the cold ground.
Something once beautiful:
Disguised by the unmerciful forces of nature.
Its petals red as blood-
Smeared across each vein.
Its leaves are frail and dying.
The night sky, a dark background,
Hiding the creatures that lurk,
Suspiciously within the trees.
Its image:
Scratched, as if human kind had tried to erase it from memory.
But the image still lives,
Still breathes,
Still thrives,
Chilling me and my thoughts.
~Danielle N. Davis
