Nature Morte
The funereal bouquet falls away from itself:
sepals are the first to sag, then chrysanthemums
drop to the floor like pom-poms. Petal tips
and leatherleaf shrink, becoming brittle
to the touch. Anthers fur into pollen grains
speckling the table, settling on her hands
as she carries the unruly stems
from the living room into the bin.
Her fingers turn saffron, painted for ritual.
Christina Lloyd holds a PhD in creative writing from Lancaster University. Her work appears in various journals, including Poetry Daily, Poetry Ireland, Reliquiae, The Frogmore Papers and The North, Her first full length collection, Women Twice Removed, is forthcoming from Sixteen Rivers Press. She lives in San Francisco.