Once was

By author

I was a wildflower that emerged out
of the cracks in the concrete
when everyone was the rose, the lily, the daisy
dressed in dust I watched
the reappearing night and sun
accepted the rain, the shine
the time to wither, to dry
existed when the road gave an opening

then you passed by, saw this flower,
looked beyond what was seen,
picked it up and set it as
an ornament in your porcelain

from a no one to a particular someone
to another, I’ve outgrown
what I should be and these inadequacies
to unwretched that self
not to be the rose, not to be the lily
but more than the wildflower I was

. . . we just long to be appreciated