It was pail
grey
metal and dented
nothing queenly
nothing demure
...nothing kind
White washed
peeling
smashed in the side
A pail thing rusting in the wet winter rain
Then I saw
it slip into something fine
glamorous
divine
silvered and renewed
Droplets of crystal glittering between over cast clouds
picking up the sunlight striving to peek through
Dents changed to curvatures
rust turned to reflecting pools catching water
stirring it rouge
Grass beneath, cradled the over turned tin
From its roots a peek of yellow begins
Sturdy green flesh twisting up toward the playful sun
A wee puff bud spun through with faint orange wisps
Precious dainty tulip
I found inspiration in a bucket
rusting and withering away to
nourish beauty in its decay.
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