He saw it first, his chubby finger pointing, eyes questioning…
‘It’s a rose.’
The description wasn’t adequate. So I wrote this:


A splash of colour
On this overcast day
Dark green leaves scattered
Across the pavement
Tiny red tipped yellow buds
Just starting to seek the sun and
Finding none, most are content to wait
But not this one
Defiantly opening up
Gold petals streaked with fiery red
This rose will not wait to greet the sun
I am the sun!
And as I stand before this fireflower
Lighting up the otherwise darkened day
I believe it to be true.


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