Teary drops slide slow down the gentle sloping of each of her silken petals.
She is wet with the night's rain and the now dense morning dew in drops.
She is again slick, sleek and ponderously heavy with the water drop drop weight
as it clings and it slides itself.
Awash in the grayness of the strongly filtered morning light she waits.
Cautious has become her nature,
Cautious has become her nature,
as the stem on which she is perched bends and sometimes trembles
under the heavy weight of all that she is,
and all that she has become.
© KAnniePowell
