And I Die Poem by Alejandra Olivas

The baby looked out the window.

Seasons go by;
Helping takes my time;
Life seems to pass…

The child sat on the porch.

The moon is back;
The stars have change;
The leaves begin to fall…

The adult grows flowers.

Winter’s winds blew
the problems away;
Spring breeds new life;

Now I harvest my red tulips…

My body lies on sweet ground.
My harvest new tulips lay on my grave;
The seasons no longer pass;
The moon will never rise again;

For I’m no longer bound to time…
I’m dead.