Rushes of roses
Falling petals flipping on the air
Descending as it's buffeted
Forgotten on the ground
Burying in the ground.
Was it really reborn?
Bees buzz around the red girls-
Squeals of fear and laughter,
The yellow and black descend in,
Fly out with nectar on black legs.
As the small wings flap
And the buzz makes it sing,
Carrying the noise of life
To the flowers browned.
The clippers only steal it of the rebound,
And the compost offers them a chance
To be something new.
As they grow to pumpkins,
And the bees buzz's by,
There is a sigh-
The wind remembering the good old days
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