Wildflower in the Wind

Her yellow petals
gently swayed
to the breathe
of the wind.
the violence of his weather.
It is always raining.
The yellow flower remains still. Hoping for the gentle dance to return.
Her pistol
Yet, she rises with the sun.
Only to seek water
for the dying roots
Beneath her. No, within her.
Darkness hides the dull
of her green stem.
Yellow. Dried. Parched.
Yearning, for one more day
as a wildflower in the wind.

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