Faded
I imagined this from another person's perspective.
Faded
Small desert flowers like
small, soft hands,
nestled in a pool of sand,
helpless under the indifferent sun,
briefly reached their curved lips to an empty sky,
never knowing what it means to wilt.
For a brief moment,
the universe was perfect.
Their tiny red veins in silk flesh were undisturbed,
and every grain of sand was quiet,
still and solid,
a soft pile under a soft blue vastness.
When I held a tiny cup in my palm,
it occurred to me how gently the thin petals shivered.
I could so plainly feel their
cool moisture evaptorating,
sinking into the leather skin of my
rough, clumsy palms.
The sun was high, and
I could not protect them from its
stinging rays. No shift of
my fingers, no amount of cradling,
no quiet pleading would stop
the silent gasp of their surrender to my
unwitting hands.
When I finally let go,
all that fluttered down were
crumpled remains
of something so purely,
so vulnerably beautiful.
I stood over what was now mine:
scattered, parched petals,
like dry victims of
my own foolishness.
12/21/06
Faded
Small desert flowers like
small, soft hands,
nestled in a pool of sand,
helpless under the indifferent sun,
briefly reached their curved lips to an empty sky,
never knowing what it means to wilt.
For a brief moment,
the universe was perfect.
Their tiny red veins in silk flesh were undisturbed,
and every grain of sand was quiet,
still and solid,
a soft pile under a soft blue vastness.
When I held a tiny cup in my palm,
it occurred to me how gently the thin petals shivered.
I could so plainly feel their
cool moisture evaptorating,
sinking into the leather skin of my
rough, clumsy palms.
The sun was high, and
I could not protect them from its
stinging rays. No shift of
my fingers, no amount of cradling,
no quiet pleading would stop
the silent gasp of their surrender to my
unwitting hands.
When I finally let go,
all that fluttered down were
crumpled remains
of something so purely,
so vulnerably beautiful.
I stood over what was now mine:
scattered, parched petals,
like dry victims of
my own foolishness.
12/21/06