why do poppies die?

just a day, or two…

doesn´t last much longer

the beauty of a poppy flower

velveteen crimson petals

inked with the black of night

opened at midday, a reminder

it´s the dreadful night´s desire

to crave the etching fire carved

into the heart of a dream

pulsing through time – soft,

juicy, wrinkly on the edges.

the wind borne sand of death

caught with bare hands…

just enough to die – for a night

just for the blink of an eye.

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