The Flowers I Never Picked

flowers I never picked up she walked into the field,
stormed ahead of me,
kicking the leaves and sticks and
shrubbery aside.
“darling look at all the petals wasted
on all those bending stems,
the colours are too vibrant against the
wilt.”
me, my heart a wild flower and body
a furnace,
a forest fire that only a mother could
love.
pink, the lips
and the flowers
and the sunset,
all alike and all anticipating a catch
of the bouquet, waiting for their turn.
when you blow away the ashes,
underneath
are the flowers i never picked up.
pm she walked into the field,
stormed ahead of me,
kicking the leaves and sticks and
shrubbery aside.
“darling look at all the petals wasted
on all those bending stems,
the colours are too vibrant against the
wilt.”
me, my heart a wild flower and body
a furnace,
a forest fire that only a mother could
love.
pink, the lips
and the flowers
and the sunset,
all alike and all anticipating a catch
of the bouquet, waiting for their turn.
when you blow away the ashes,
underneath
are the flowers i never picked up