A crystalline chrysanthemum

And a chrysanthemum

Bask in the soft spring sun.

A breeze causes them to shift 

Confidently in the soil.

Scintillating rays of sun wash

Over the flowers like a spotlight.

The eyes of passersby revel in

The glowing skin, the indefectible symmetry,

The kaleidoscopic petals, the engineered perfection;

It’s just the right height and just the right size—

The crystalline chrysanthemum gets picked.

A crystalline chrysanthemum

And a chrysanthemum

Cower under the blistering desert sun,

Beside a desolate highway.

Barrages of silt-laden bullets pelt the

Flowers. One reflects them; the other

Raises its cellulose arms in a valiant but fruitless defense

Against the unrelenting elements.

In the distance a hunched figure sees the flowers;

One erect and unbothered,

The other pressed against the sand,

Barely breathing but unwilling to give up its life.

The figure stumbles through the dunes

Legs strung, throat full of lungs.

The figure picks the chrysanthemum

And walks on towards the highway

Leaving a footprint in desert sand.