And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud
was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.    ~ Anais Nin

What if the only thing nurtured is violence?
What blossoms then?

Dead ends with shotgun shells?
Petals pulsating pools of blood?
A tired earth that constantly quakes?
Flakes over cities that never see snow?

Where did all the flowers go?

Brenda Warren 2014


For Day 4, Elizabeth asked us to write a poem in a form we seldom use.  For me? Questions.  In its entirety.  I like it.  But I didn’t like it until the last line landed.  Sometimes that last line evades you for awhile.   The Anais Nin quote floated through a Facebook post and became fodder for this piece.