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Pressed Flower
November 19, 2018
I am made of dust
And I sprinkle as I fly
Myself in all places
Stretching underneath the sky
I am made of glass
That which shatters, leaves a shard
And rides the passing draft
Fleeing land forever scarred
I am made of paper
Dipping thirsty in the ink
Recording words and melodies
But scorched before I blink
I am made of petals
Tightly pressed in pages lost
Like a cut-out paper snowflake
That will never lose its frost
© Katherine A., San Antonio, TX
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