LASTING

Rose of Sharon buds
Windblown and scattered
At the peak of their beauty,
Delicate veined and
Dying.
As children we often
Caught bees inside them
Pinched open flowers
Closed with pollen
Laden bees their cargo
And into a jar and holes in the lid
For air. Sometimes stung
Life for life for life
And “Get those things out of
My kitchen” and the
Switch to feathers left behind.
Lasting.