.
As they unfurl petals like the woman of chayil
Facing the future and all its dire prognostications
With hands outstretched and kindness on her tongue.
They bloom so bravely in the window there,
Rose and white streaked satin petals,
Crimpèd edges, curling back like unclenched fists,
Their hearts of streaky green and apple seeds
Laid bare before a world that deals not often kindly
With bare hearts. Before their valiant candor
My own armored, fainting heart beholds its poverty
And sighs.
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