A single flower is a lonely thing
When found on a bush’s branch
Buds bloom together in stinging spring weather
But this bright face shines out alone
Small birds have company out on the wing
But with one the hawk circles the ranch
A master of air who’d have not a care
If only a friend could be won
Now aloud my shoes ring as I walk down the lane
Keeping pace with only themselves
Passing groups of good friends with bouquets in their hands
One red rose clutched in my nails
Waxing Philosophical 