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A Flower With No Name | A Poem by Casarah Nance

I didn’t know the name of those flowers,
They were red, but not red, not quite.
Something about this flowering bush,
gave my eyes a peaceful loving site.

The bells of blossoms drooped down,
Like the leaves were crying bloody tears.
The image of this solitary plant,
it will haunt me for many many years.

For when I witness this beauty,
it was standing waist high in a open space,
surrounded by only grass and dirt,
it did seem rather out of place.

I drove away not knowing
that through time and space somewhere,
this vision of the perfect flower,
was one that we would both share.

Visit http://casarah.altervista.org/.


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