As she arranged the nasturtiums
in their depression-glass vase,
to her husband she said:
You’re wilting.
See these fresh blooms,
she continued, all they require
is a splash of water
and voila! the rainbow
has pixilated and now
our kitchen table sings
in coloratura.
You, on the other hand,
sit silent and fade
like a winter sunset.
Awaken! Bloom!
Yes, hon, I’ll take care of that tomorrow.
Dinner ready?
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