I glance at the geraniums,
It seems they glance sideways at me.
Some are happy, bubbly, cheery,
And others, they carry a known disease,
Of negativity among the cheer,
The mirth,
The banter,
The geraniums are not completely innocent,
No, some were willing to barter.
Some have exchanged their good looks for power,
The ability to glare and stare at us while we
Glance back and forth with horror,
At having come upon the enemies of the majority of these beauties,
Who have gone through struggles to rise above their
Common duties,
These beautiful flowers are not all cast in the light
Of wonder,
Because some made a willing trade,
Their morals and appearance have gone under.
Why would a flower trade for power?
What could a flower possibly do?
I do not know,
You do not know,
Perhaps the mystery here lies in the shrivelled petals
And leaves which are dying,
Silently begging to be pruned.
I suppose the deception coupled with the power that
A geranium has traded their beauty for
Could be simply this,
A rising,
A surging,
An engulfing whiteness,
An ability to make a viewer come completely undone.
The geraniums smile and smile away
And there are only a few within the bunch which
Could ruin our day.
© 2020 Lauren M. Hancock. All rights reserved.
Image by S. Hermann & F. Richter from Pixabay
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