Warm

It’s the rising sun as a flower lifts its petals and waves the moon farewell. Children run around the garden unknowing of her existence rumbling the earth with the rhythm of their feet. Ants devour leftover watermelon while the scorching sun radiates off the pavement. She sways now and then at the hand of summers gentle breeze but always finds her center. She is at the mercy of the weather well aware she will perish with winters touch but she continues to grow

reaching for the deep blue sky. This is me growing without you.