tender and rare blue flower
the forget-me-not is fading
no longer vibrant and bold
no longer delicate and precious

the vase sits
a water-ring along its lip
just one in amongst the others
your hand lifts them out
tosses them away no second glance

replaced by an energetic lily instead
her perfume is heady
delicate lips call for a hungry touch
her clothing magnificent

the forget-me-not lies wasted
once she was cherished
she was perceived and gazed upon
her beauty simple and not complex

without loving care she withered
passed over for another’s extravagance

tara caribou | ©2019-2021

Read more like this in my poetry book, Fallen Star Rising.

36 thoughts on “Atrophy

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