If I were a real flower I would not be big, bright or showy.

I would be a small, quiet flower that may be noticed or ignored.

Maybe I would be poisonous, so I would not get picked.

I would be wiry and scrappy, not thirsty and needy, so I can be left alone.

I do not even want a color. I can just be pure white. No spots. No stripes.

I would be white and tiny and insignificant.

I would be a tiny, white Epimedium growing under a shrub looking out at the other crazy flowers wondering

“What the hell are they thinking?”

FLOWER