Flowers Poem by Ananya Guha

Flowers withering
flowers deflowered, root out living
flowers come and go in changing seasons
flowers are reminder, a wish that this season
they will vanish like the spirit
flowers and the rain conspire to enliven things
and harp on many many things to come
such as events, love and blues.
Charismatic, flowers are colours,
marigold, hibiscus, jacaranda
their blooms give rest
swaying mildly at their best.

In wartime where are graves?
In death where are flowers?
Why do they dampen, then worsen?
O flowers you are a kind of doom
but in your colours we see, the prophetic;
wishes are flowers, handle them with care.

Look at vases, the metal
they shape the petal, and give flowers
their coloration. Hues. Flowers on roads
bristle with pebbles and stone.

Once flowers, come and go
I am done.