Flower

     If I were a flower, I would be one with about three colors or so. I would bloom later in the season but die out around the same time as the others, enjoying a shorter life span but enjoying it a lot.

     When I bloomed again I hope you would be happy to see me, swaying in the wind with my brothers and sisters. And I hope you would choose me to sit on your kitchen table, a single stem, in a skinny glass vase.