“Flowers”

I tiptoe around the fallen ones

Still bright and fragrant

They lived their purpose.

Fallen but not forgotten

Laying carelessly soaking in the warmth

Last bit of summer

Leaves will follow next month

I breathe in and accept their fate

Now, they rest and mingle with the mud

To strengthen the roots

For the next season

When they will shine bright

Coloring my world with growth and pride