Prose Poetry: Flowers
The flowers sit there in a garden behind the house, blowing in the breeze and full of color. I see the softness of their petals and I run my fingertips gently on top of them. It begins to rain. I see the raindrops speckle the petals. The flowers let the sunlight hit their petals and leaves. They don’t try to hide from the sun and rain. The surroundings do not matter. They bloom in hardship and after hardship. I would find a lone flower growing in between the cracks of a sidewalk. The flowers share their fragrance with everyone and anyone who appreciates their beauty. They share their fruit with those who come early to enjoy it. Other people don't notice the flowers. They find the fruit on the ground rotten.
Sometimes flowers send their seeds to travel. The seeds travel with the wind to spread their beauty or to get a better spot in the world.