It was too small and frail for me to steal.
Which is good.
I didn’t want to commit such violence upon it.
The flower was smaller than the tear
that raced down my cheek
after I tripped and fell in the abandoned lot.
I missed crushing it by a generous inch.
I held my breath
when I saw the loveliness my clumsiness almost undone.
The coming bruise is worth this singular view.
This delicate flower
reminding me that life doesn’t heed deeds of ownership.
And just when I thought I had learned all I could,
a solitary bee
rummaged too well and left fading petals to drift against me.