The Way Of All Flowers Poem by shimon weinroth

I took the flower home
to deck my room
fill and surround
my thoughts with feelings
soft and colorful

put it in water to drink
moved it this way and that
fussed over it
to stand and serve
attend my being

I looked, I saw, I gazed
I was so proud to own
this companion
we lived together
for some days

I basked in its beauty
magnetized, mesmerized
lit up my universe,
desk and soul,
then it drooped

I could not see its face
color faded, the petals
curved in and tarnished
turned brown and rusted
water smelled, murky and sad

my flower wilted and died
though she was dying when
first I brought her into the room
I wrapped her in newspaper
I could not trash her
with all the other refuse