If it weren’t for the flowers sitting outside my window
I’d never look outside. If it weren’t for the flowers
sitting outside my window I’d never leave my chair.
I’d instead stare into the void – That empty space on the wall
where art should be.
Day in and day out never looking out my window.
She plants them towards the end of May.
Every year at the end of May.
The assortment of blossoms are accompanied by miniature bikes
covered in rust alongside red pinwheels that come alive with the mildest of gusts.
Each day throughout June and July she waters her garden,
keeping it pristine for passersby.
When August comes the flowers start to dry.
By September she’s uprooting her garden, everything has to die.
The shades may close.
The cool winds will come, but fret not,
for May has just begun.
Dan Leicht, a writer from Rochester NY, often writes poetry as well as fiction, which can be found on his author site. His poetry has previously been published with Canto Magazine and Work Literary Magazine.