The Morning Glory

The sun peeks through
the puffy clouds.
The birds begin to chirp.
Gracefully, timidly springs forth,
the Morning Glory.

Stretching and yawning
she comes to life -
happiness, her cup of tea.
Majestically she reigns -
looking o'er the hillside,
the Morning Glory and me.

Confident, perhaps arrogant;
her frilly beauty shines.
But what she feels inside,
lost as she retreats.
Shrivels, closes, gone -
or is that me?