Paula’s Prompts: Wednesday Words

On April 4, 2021, P. T. Wyant posted at a Wednesday Words prompt involving rain, stones, and an empty flower pot.

This poem was the result…

There hasn’t been rain in far too long

The sky remains a pitiless blue

The flower pot is dry, dirty and empty

Its occupants have long since withered and died

Fallen dirt lies next to the empty vessel

Tiny stones of brown forming in the residue

I breathe, feel my nostrils constict and congest

Unable to take in whatever is in the air

I marvel how the world has changed yet remains the same

Droughts are nothing new in my home state

The rain went away, refusing to return to us

The early spring chill gives way to a scalding sun

Flowers are forced to bloom, pushing their way out of pots

I marvel at the vivid vitality of the blossoms I’ve seen

Along with everything else I’ve lived to see

I fear the future more than ever, clinging to pieces of the past

Even though there are parts I long to hurl from my memory

Something I feel like that abandoned, empty flower pot

Only there are things I’d rather not fill myself with

Along with things I’d rather not lose, allow to be buried in the dirt

Am I any different than anyone else in these sentiments?

To be unique to be alone yet I know I’m not

One faded flower pot clinging to color and purpose among many

Even if we all differ greatly in our designs. 

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