"They bow their heads as if on stage;
Their blooms, round and full and fragrant.
Tipped toward the heads of state, such
Royalty deserving so much humility in such beauty?
The stems, their backs, struggle against the lure of
But each petal in the bloom seems intent on completing the
Loop back to the earth.
The roots wonder about all of the fuss upstairs.
They do their part but never hear
If the show was a hit."