Coral In

photo (56)

The tulips make me want to paint
Something about the way they drop
Their petals on the tabletop
And do not wilt so much as faint,
Something about their burnt-out hearts
Something about their pallid stems
Wearing decay like diadems
Parading finishes like starts,
Something about the way they twist
As if to catch the last applause
And drink the moment through long straws
And how, tomorrow, they’ll be missed
– a.e stallings
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