lemons

Lemons
They only last so long
Like sun­sets and sea­sons
Sad­ness or griev­ance
Like you or me

Youth
It only ex­ists a mo­ment
Frames of nos­tal­gic po­laroids
Brown­ing with age
Fad­ing rec­ol­lec­tions

Kind­ness
It hap­pens oc­ca­sion­al­ly
For un­known gen­eros­i­ty
Or un­chart­ed in­ten­tions
Of­ten go­ing un­no­ticed

Pa­tience
It comes by few of us
And of­ten for­got­ten
Over­looked
Yet sin­cere­ly revered

Peo­ple
They’re only there for a frac­tion
Over­lap­ping un­even­ly
You knew a life with­out me
Yet, I’ve al­ways ever known you

Ex­pi­ra­tion
Every­thing is per­ish­able
Like lemons, like youth
Peo­ple, their pa­tience or kind­ness
Yet, what can be cul­ti­vat­ed
Is kept eter­nal­ly

—aman­da mau­r­er

Flom­mist Aman­da Mau­r­er likes art and bugs. She is also an in­tro­vert­ed artist with a lot to say. Heavy tea drinker. Finds joy in sim­ple as­pects of life. Copy­right © 2017 Aman­da Mau­r­er. Foto by mehal­lo.

MOR D’ARTÍCULOS  MOR FLOMM !

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