Do Not Ask Where I Find Hope (Poem)

petals so fragile they bleed from a gaze

cover the ground as bruised pavement

their colors darkening with every footstep

sepia shading recalling other wounds

those we hurry past and try not to see

we all have blows we cannot escape

cuts and marks and tender scars

some heal and in their repair transform

a sharpened jag becomes an expansive heart

so that even the tear-strewn weary earth

awash with wreckage from violent storms

is suddenly overrun with flowers

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