Poetry book, maybe?
What Do You Think The Flowers Did?
The door of the house
with the garden,
was left open that day.
A drought had started,
leaving the plants desperate,
for the water from inside the door.
The trees leaned towards
the gap.
The ground trembled.
The plants just put in pots,
were hot, and uncomfortable.
There was no room to stretch their roots.
The flowers in the bed,
craned their necks. Just a
look might satisfy.
The grass pulled itself up,
the dry dirt flying. But grass
has no legs, just unsharp blades.
The leaves turned their heads,
vines twisting, tangling,
just a drop. Just one drop.
The stones trembled
where they lay.
Something was brewing.
The door of the house with the garden,
was left open that day.
What do you think the flowers did?

Keep Reading

Chapter 8

The Swimming Pool In The Morning

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