Summer Tulip

Not long ago,
it was so beautiful,
attracting bees
and delighted
glances.
Sometimes even
picked
for brilliant bouquets.

Red and yellow,
as I almost remember.
Or maybe
it was pink,
double blossoms,
with ragged edges.

Another day,
or just a few,
and suddenly,
petals are fallen.
A sign
of middle age
or maybe
senescence.
Something interesting?

I never was
that pretty,
I declare.
But time rolls on
for all of us.
No one is spared.
My own petals
have long since
fallen,
on the ground.

What character
is left?
And have I learned
a thing?
Something to share?
Anything that
resembles wisdom?
Or, at least,
a not-too-boring
story?

2 thoughts on “Summer Tulip

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