Flowers Go Unpicked Poem by Kyle Schlicher

Flowers Go Unpicked



i don't see her
in the mornings anymore.
her garden untended.

she died last week.
time and old age finally
caught up with her.

weeds begin to sprout
where she would toil everyday,
flowers go unpicked.

(4-22-1978)

Monday, August 11, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: death of a friend
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