Blue Buds

Blue Buds

By Emma Omid Some flowers are meantTo be pickedTo be placedIn a vasePut on displayUntil they shrivel and dieAnd they are thrown backTo where they have always belongedAnd will stay.I always find myself yearningFor a field of blue budsTo take me there.They turn into the...
Bricks

Bricks

By Emma Omid I stare down at the bricksThe cracks and cratersThe scratches and stainsAnd I wonder how long they’ll lastWill they break under the pressure of a giant truck?Or the light step of a child?Will it be something bigOr something small?I can see the snow...