Thick creamy petals;
A soft, velvet nap to each;
Frilled edges overlap.
A garland
To the lost majesty of its host;
A giant, as before,
Yet barren, now,
Lightning-struck, perhaps.
Such abundance
For no purpose,
It seems.
Only to draw the gaze;
To call, softly, as we pass –
Look –
At What lives on
After the end.
See –
What beauty exists –
Just because –
It can.
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