The End

(from the NaPoWriMo prompt: write a poem that similarly presents a scene from an unusual point of view. Perhaps you could write a poem that presents Sir Isaac Newton’s discovery from the perspective of the apple. Or the shootout at the OK Corral from the viewpoint of a passing vulture. Or maybe it could be something as everyday as a rainstorm, as experienced by a raindrop.)

I build the green shoot

deep inside me

and then

when the ground warms

and I can feel the heat

from the returning sun above me...

I send my green shoot

up into the still cool air

and I stretch and pull myself

higher and higher

toward the warm shine above me.

I feel my long green shoot

bend and sway

with the rain and wind

as I prepare my purple star sphere

to bloom high above me.

I live in my long green shoot

from spring day to

spring day until

the red door opens and it

staggers out, wielding silver blades

to cut me down from above.