Survivors

When I first spotted the tulip’s pale petals
I thought this poor blossom was a victim
of the night’s freezing temperatures, the way
she was bent to the ground, dusted with soil.
But as I tended to the garden where she grew
I saw that she was quite alive, and wanting
to stand, but for the little heap of dirt caught
in her curved petal and holding her down.
Making a wish, I softly blew across her petal
and the dirt flew away and she stood, bowed,
but grateful to be free. I noticed that the freeze
stunted one of her petals after all. “No matter,”
I told her. “None of us is without our flaws.
Why, just getting here in the first place
is no walk in the park. We should all be glad
we’re here at all. I, myself, am glad you came,
and so happy that you’re my neighbor.”
When I saw her again a couple hours later
she was standing tall and smiling.
Me, too.

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