A PASSING

I’d offered it water only a hour before.
But the time we were given together
Was much shorter than I’d suspected,
And I wished for one hour more.

It gradually lowered its head
Upon its silken paws, as its life slipped away.
The sun was still high, yet it lay in shadow,
On this, its last, its dying day.

Moments before it seemed so full of life,
Its veins of red pumping vibrance
Under its pink and fragile skin.

I watched as it slumped lower,
Wishing it could hold on,
And taste one last sweet drop
Of Nature’s healing dew.

T’was the blossom from a fragile pink flower,
A petunia on my porch.
And I’d just witnessed its dying hour.

After it was gone
I reluctantly removed it from its stem
And fed it to a passing breeze.

And, as it floated away,
to fall to Earth, I thought,
Why does life so lovely live for so short a day?
****