A Flower Poem by jim jay

The toddler talks in gibberish
and I follow hither as
she waddles to the flower.

It’s pink, like her shirt,
suddenly startled by the girth
of the little girl’s waist.

Wanting to shower life with life,
I pluck the flower from right
beneath her eyes.

To no surprise she giggles with glee
but now I can’t help to wonder
what might be
if we’d only stopped to watch it
grow together a little while longer.
What a waste.