The Plucked Flower Poem by Sara Militello

The Plucked Flower

Such a bold stalk he plucks
as he makes his way along
the boulevard of dreams
leaving a swath-damaged sashay

and split-petaled lingering perfume
for all who'd chance to view
the faded flowers wantonly askew
and purple majesties in a stew.

Perchance he might even lure
the wont of another blushing youth
who'd take aim and effectively cure
the lie that doth endure:

That a careless plucking
and innocent breach in homage
to even the fairest of fair lass
would pardon the ruin
of a dying beauty.

July 30,1993