One Little Flower

i planted a flower,
one little flower in its own little pot.
on the surface it was pretty ordinary,
but something about it was special.

or maybe i just thought so.

the bees loved it,
and the butterflies loved it,
and the birds loved it,
and even squirrels and rabbits loved it.
they were always gazing,
hovering from afar,
just wanting to be near it,
know it’s there,
observe.

i protected it,
kept them all away.
i observed too.
how could this flower,
so simple and delicate,
attract all these beautiful things
that i scare off?

one day a butterfly came.
i watched it sit, then flutter closer,
careful not to touch.
the butterfly was fragile, like the flower,
and so pretty.
how much harm could it do?

i watched my flower,
one little flower in its own little pot,
as all its beauty and its grace
were mangled and defaced.

maybe it wasn’t special.
maybe it was just mine.