A quirky little poem, I think. It was an exercise in which we had to focus on one object and write about it. Didn’t have to be something immediately visible, but something we could clearly remember and picture in our minds. I chose a strange little flowerpot that used to live in the front room of my uncle’s house.

Centerpiece

Yellow roses in a line

Tip to tail, course to fine

At the zenith of blooming time

Lemon blending into lime.

On the table, there they stay

Beauty held for just one day

But time the roses do betray

They wither, and then fade away.