In a field strewn with shards of sorrow,
Overcast skies that cast no shadow,
Stands a lone, proud flower;
Delicate, tiny, with petals that shrivel at the lightest touch.
A shot of color against the gray,
A spot of life amidst the dead.
As it dances with the wind, it beckons the heart
Teasing her to believe.
- mh
© October 2015
