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Flower Child

By Tami Karabin


Little child

with your azure, orphaned

roving eyes

and no one’s straw-blond hair,

those lanky arms

are stronger than you think

and stronger than

they might need to be

to hold tight, clinging

with those white knuckles

as the train “click-clacks”

toward something new.


Beautiful child

with your bare, tender

still-red scar

and a loaded-gun impulse,

those keen eyes

see everything,

see more than

they rightly should

to maintain some sense

of hope or happiness

as civilization “tick-tocks”

toward calamity


Philosopher child

with your new, resolute

crafty ideals

and an acute distrust,

that curious mind

has meandered

has more questions

about how the world works

than ever any answers

and thrives there

as all the people “Amen”

toward discord


Kind child

with your open, gentle

ardent nature

but a shameful cognizance,

that difference you sense

is you,

is the Divine in you

expressing itself,

young for but a moment,

and shines in you

as the Wi-Fi gods hurl us

toward oblivion


Blooming child

with your soft, chromatic

audacious petals

and reaching toward the sky,

the spirit in you

knows we are all one,

knows we are all growing

in extraordinary ways

under the same warming sun

from the same earthen ground

and loves you,

for you’re already a flower



Tami is a graduate of Lynchburg College and works in CVCC’s Writing Center. She enjoys helping students develop as writers. In her free time, she likes to read, write and craft.

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