It's Still Life

Tulip

Tulip’s sweet
and echoing voice.
A flower. A cup. Red
as revenge.
It is a vanity, even in its
own shadow. This beauty
drowns in rain,
once loved by spring,
now dies away, as if carried
off by Narcissus.
Loves longings,
deceived.

Day 21: AprPAD Danger and NaPoWriMo Narcissus

It’s National Poetry Writing Month, which explains the surge in activity. I’m following three different sites generating daily prompts. Writers’ Digest Poetic Asides, the National Poetry Writing Month website (NaPoWriMo) and my old friend, Walt, over at Gnomes. All of these pieces are drafts.