Flowers sway side to side,
Like dancers twirling in the snow,
They flow along in the grass,
Like a log in chilled water.
The new blooms in the flowers
Are so small, they look like tiny peas.
The tulip petals fly off in the wind,
Swirling in the air,
Like geese flying south.
Then they die, shriveled and withered,
Like a sick man so small in a bed.
When she walks, her footsteps crunch on the dead twigs,
She thinks of how beautiful flowers are,
Their stems as limp as a broken arm.
Then she thinks of next year,
When she'd be walking on the same dry dirt path,
Leading to a forest of colors.
She'll sit and watch pollen fly,
And bees buzz,
And say, "Love has made a rainbow of colors!"