Still Life Poem by O Anna Niemus
Still Life
For his love he picked a bouquet
... depriving each bloom
of the sun's immersion kisses,
the rain's sweet caress,
the wind's gentle play..
depriving each flower of love
Paintings of such arrangements
are literally 'still life'.
Monday, July 14, 2008
Topic(s) of this poem: flower
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8/29/2026 12:51:52 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
