Chrysanthemums

July; chrysanthemum and lilies bloom from the winds that carry pollen. 

Everlasting, life and death. Rebirth and exhaustion. 

July, blooming and de-blooming flowers. 

July, the end of time, the end of life.

July, the mourning of the rain.

From the top of the clouds to the bottom of the dirt, 

why take those pretty flowers?

July, wilting the old with the new.

My pretty mums, how much I hate the lilies.

Out shine my wilting white mums, why must you go away? 

July, my old enemy, spark the white dandelions so I can make one lasting wish.

My old withering white mums, sorry for pouring more water, sorry for not giving out enough sun. 

July has taken you away; July told me to say goodbye.

To my dear, white mums.

Until the last breath that is released from my garden, I hope to see the everlasting fireworks with you.

That’s a final wish.