~Loners Don't Cause the Flower's Tremble~

Loners don't cause the flower's tremble;
it's the found who pick them
for the windowed home of temporary light.

Polished suitors hit the shops;
purchase them with plastic cash.
Sheathed or vased, the flowers wilt
where they're placed by lovers
in a rush to sheets and covers.
They die at the table's center,
the counter's rim,
the bedside stand.

Dimly lit tombs of finished symphonies
have claimed petal and stem, color
and scent, pollen and dew
to honor the composers who,
deaf when they died,
were still able to see and smell
the rose or wildflower on the grave.

Loners don't cause the flower's tremble,
nor unknown poets
and unrealized compositions
found dead on less than grand pianos.

:) Bravo! I don't know why this has been missed up until now, it's simply wonderful. Flower sentinels wilt over the known and found, but the poem is a tribute to all those not found too, at least the way I understand it. I'm a little confused though by the 'found who pick them' line at the beginning. I thought the found would have flowers picked for them.Maybe I completely missed the point.

'the windowed home of temporary light' Love it! And the way you end the poem.

When you put this poem in a book, tell me, and I'll buy one. I feel guilty sometimes reading great poems like this online, Dan.

you had me at composers (i love music)... can this poem be any more engrossing? a humble trembling rose doing its job to capture the heart.

Thanks, guys. I'll look at the line that confuses.

This was splendid up until the last stanza and especially the last two lines, where it left splendid behind and went for magnificence! Bravo!