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Poetry Walk/The Flower

See how The Flower behaves when you dote on it?

How it unfurls, unsheathes, unfolds?

See how the waters tide towards you repetitiously?

How they care not over your supposed ugliness?

See the blades of grass sway like a million dancers

Performing song in between our toes?

See the tree's spectacles—oh, again, that phrase—

Paying attention to you, oh, little you?

See the fingers of my hand reach for the palm of your hand

And drop inside it my unconditional affection.

See my eyes wander round but still catch you staring

And send messages about more picnics.

See how I want to talk to you, but I write instead

Because I speak better that way, and you don't listen.

See how I watch you grow without interceding

Because I want you to grow only as you would grow.

See how The Flower behaves when you dote on it?

How it unfurls, unsheathes, unfolds?

See how I tide towards you repetitiously?

How I care not over your supposed ugliness?

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