Flowers in a new hand

I gave a flower from the bottom of my heart

She held it and dropped it

I now see my flower in an unknown hand

Being nurtured and tendered

This hand I see not like her hand

Not like what I knew

Like that touch which sent flying

My wet eyes

To dry like the desert

The eagle eyes bright

I yearn to have my flower

When time and tide brings me nigh

My flower I will not touch but leave

To possess this new hand that bears it now.