Our tulips did not bloom in time, this March both cold and wet, rather sun and warmth left us destitute of their hues.

And yet…

We that have basic means bought bouquets, better than those of home, minus sentiment.

Ages ago those foreign bulbs cost small fortunes.

Not so long ago, post-war Dutchmen would survive eating those same bulbs.

Rejoicing since, they share their colors exploding in rainbow rows, the seasonal guests.

 The flower is the same. Time and circumstance redefined it more than once.

Our view changes and our values,

Now no need to grow our own, to care, to watch each step, leaf to brightening bloom.

So easy to buy the waxy cups of extravagance,

And yet…,

 Without waiting, watching, needing the colored springing from wintry rest,

Our careless life in lacking little has lackluster life at best.


Visit Rhonda on Medium and see more of her work here

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