I used to hide behind my
Grandfather's shelf to espy
My little lilies grow.
Awestruck and mostly dejected,
Because I never got to
I loved the thought of being
Witness to something as
Graceful as my flowers;
Budding early between
Late March and early April.
And trammeled to watch the flower
Grow, move an inch—or two.
And I would stand there all night
Daring the flowers to move
Their sepals, or shed their innumerable
Into the water. They always
Grew, and I never witnessed them.
Sleep was a more humble
Experience. Nature should not be
Forced either way; sleep nor flowers
Date submitted: January 31, 2022
Date accepted: March 1, 2022
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