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Warm

It’s the rising sun

as a flower lifts its petals

and waves the moon farewell.


Children run around the garden

unknowing of her existence

rumbling the earth with the rhythm of their feet.


Ants devour leftover watermelon

while the scorching sun radiates off the pavement.

She sways now and then

at the hand of summers gentle breeze

but always finds her center.


She is at the mercy of the weather

well aware she will perish with winters touch

but she continues to grow reaching for the deep blue sky.


This is me growing without you.

Warm

It’s the rising sun as a flower lifts its petals and waves the moon farewell. Children run around the garden unknowing of her...