The Muse

(An International Journal of Poetry)

Volume-1                                          June-2011                                                        Number-1



Flower Child

by Jennifer C. Wolfe

I saw the creased white business card

Lying in the sand of the parking lot:

It looked as though it had been run over

By tires immersed in fresh tar. 

Flowers and Friends, its name stared

Up at me in neat, black letters.

I stared at the card, mesmerized by

Thoughts of childhood zoo conservatory trips. 

As a summer wind rifled through my hair,

I pondered how long it had been,

Since someone had arrived at my doorstep,

Holding flowers clenched in their hand. 

My last bouquet had been an apologetic,

Rumpled assortment from the local supermarket;

It reminded me of yellow dandelions

Intermingled with pink cake frosting roses. 

I thought it looked somewhat pricey,

Especially when lovelier wildflowers

Could just have easily been picked

Along the side of the road for free