© Danielle N. Davis
Listen to the Poem
The flower snakes from the cold ground.
Something once beautiful:
Disguised by the unmerciful forces of nature.
Its petals red as blood-
Smeared across each vein.
Its leaves are frail and dying.
The night sky, a dark background,
Hiding the creatures that lurk,
Suspiciously within the trees.
Scratched, as if human kind had tried to erase it from memory.
But the image still lives,
Chilling me and my thoughts.