ASNN

delicate jasmine petals

I awoke today to find
the delicate jasmine petals
(newly-grown)
dying on the ground.
It was not the sun
drying them out.
It was not the water
washing them off.
It was not the wind
blowing them down.
It was a whisper from the enemy
in the ear of a friend,
and a hand that cut them clean.
The vine I had planted
struggled to survive the desert heat,
struggled to survive the arid air,
struggled to plant roots in the clay.
The fragrant white flowers
finally peeked out from their shells,
a sign of triumph,
of redemption,
of spring after a long winter.
Now all I have are
the delicate jasmine petals
(newly-clipped)
dying on the ground.

And a vine that longs for a gentle hand.