Yesterday,
Was it only yesterday?
This flower was a bud
In a small translucent glass vase
That once belonged to my grandmother,
A passionate gardener whose flowers were her children.
Yesterday,
Was it only yesterday?
This flower was a bud.
Today,
This flower is a bloom.
It opened quickly yet I did not see it move,
Even though I must have passed by
A dozen times or more.
Seen or unseen,
All is in motion in this inconstant world,
All the little children,
In the blink of an eye,
Gone.
~ Russ Allison Loar
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