I remember how the booming,
bright, and brilliant bursts
of color hurt your eyes. We layed
in the prickly grass of the
crowded park, looking at the sky.
I remember how you didn’t
know of the growing death in
your body, and life was
like a flower in a sunny meadow.
I remember your bright, yellow
petals, never falling in the cold
of winter, and your glowing
leaves in the warmth of day.
I remember the first day your
petals fell. After the color
left the sky, and before the branches
became clean and bare.
Your leaves drooped, and the warmth
was sucked out of your
thriving heart. I still watch the
erupting purples, and
yellows in the night sky, and I
will forever feel the
grass of the meadow on my skin.
Bowie High School
12