today as I was taking out the trash

I noticed something that turned my head

there were two lone blooms

on the spiky tree outside

under the dim light of the moon

staring, reaching out, longing for the other

but never to touch again

the purple of the pedal's tint

the death traps all around them

it really made you think

these blossoms on the spiky tree

wishing, waiting for the other's touch

and there's a possibility

that it may happen, it really could

but only if they fall off the tree

dying, decaying, on the ground

but finally in the reach

of the other flower

so should the wind blow too hard tonight

may they fall in grace and power

I walked away, to take the dog out

but now I stare out my window

to watch as the storm rages and

they fall, they flutter, through the rain

and then, in peace and love and death, they land

The table, smooth and tan

Standing proud and tall

Holding my food, so kind