a gentle reminder

Molly Shaffer

in my room sits a freshly picked flower in a mason jar its vibrant petals welcome all who pay a visit as days go by, its yellow becomes a faded cream I look closer and notice the wrinkles upon the petals like the ones beginning to form around my eyes I realize the flower is gradually beginning to die do my wrinkles mean I am beginning to die too? or am I slowly learning the importance of living while I still have the chance to? I’m not sure but I can only hope that at the end of my stay here I can do for someone what this flower has done for me