First Flower Poem by Brennah Bailey

First Flower



The dirt is finally a rich auburn
The grass is finally emerald
The sun is finally tangerine
The clouds are finally eggshell
Petals unfold the perfect color of violet
shaped so emaculatly
the stem a straight bend
Plucked from the ground
A gift
To place on the page that says on the first date
he gave me a flower
he loves me not
he loves me

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