The flower breathed out,
Carbon dioxide filtering
Through its leaves out of
The oxygenized world beyond.
I’m finally alone.
It wasn’t conscious thought.
Plants, after all, can’t think like
We can.
But it felt relief in its way.
Enough people had been
Tramping nearby that it was just
Glad to survive another day.
However, the redbud
Was betrayed, because after its
Momentary rest,
The gardener’s boot stomped it flat.