I Hid A FLower In A Roman Forum by maia nunez

I hid a flower in a Roman forum

And left it there for someone else to find.

To find it alone,

Alone, among and amidst the cool vacancy of grass, Stood my Flower.

Pluck: it takes courage to extract.

Violet, it was -

Now, is that wrath or tranquility?

Passion or melancholy?

Would that she could identify The purpose of her hue

The story of the ewe,

But this is Rome.

The She-Wolf, then,

Nursing the twins

And counting the wins of

One, then the other,

Up and over

‘Til one fell and-

Oh well.

I think we were given two eyes for a reason

And yet my Flower has none.

Cobblestone streets and nonsensical feats

Of humanism, shadows, and shapes

Simply cannot hide the fact that we are apes.

What, then, is humanism?

Intellectual airs are perfect façades

As we meander down the esplanades that were once painted in the blood of a twin.

I run in.

Pluck: it takes gall to remove.

Velvet drapes cannot conceal the tarnished capes of former soldiers that have died.

And God knows I’ve tried

To find some meaning in it all.

The growth and decay,

The rise and the Fall.

And so I brought my Flower to an artificial marketplace,

Past the buzzing crowds and heated debates.

I moved swiftly,

And, in haste,

Climbed atop the nearest stone and faced the charming anachronism.

I couldn’t speak, but my Flower could.

“What lies in charm?” she asked, and I was

Perplexed, I knew that I would never tell if

Humans were creatures of Heaven or of Hell.

And so I hid a flower in a Roman forum

And left it there for someone else to find...