A Pink-faced peony grows
from a crack in the pavement
body upright, Determined. But its
heavy head bobs and droops-
as if wondering what it is doing here.
Petals delicate as tissue paper
apt to fray
and
disintegrate
should the wind blow
or a tear fall.
A pastel thing in a sea of gray,
the peony in the pavement weeps
in silence
at my feet
Waiting.
