
A dead flower head. The stem and leaf thinks it’s in the peak of health, but the flower has crumpled into a shadow of its former self; like a deflated brown paper balloon. On some of these mornings, I know how it feels.
A dead flower head. The stem and leaf thinks it’s in the peak of health, but the flower has crumpled into a shadow of its former self; like a deflated brown paper balloon. On some of these mornings, I know how it feels.