The ballet of a bouquet

They are all matching and
yet disorderly dressed
as they hang together in a cluster,
waiting in a plastic wing for their
act on the pristine stage of a crystal vase.

They smile as their toes dip in water
and in spontaneous celebration
start blooming their ochre neck tutus
so unsynchronised, so mesmerizing
as much in their uncoordinated wilting.

One by one they bloom to individual full,
folding their sunbathed faces to the sky
letting other faces kiss the eyes on the stage.

They bend on untimely cues until all meet in
a bow for an act done so chaordically well.
The ether must give them silent applause
and standing ovations for they gracefully
with diginity meet the curtain of death.

Photo by Christie Kim on Unsplash