Chrysanthemums. Gardenias. Hibiscus. Try to miss us. You can’t, because you never knew. You created the rain, let it fall, and set us ablaze. But you did not weep. You only weep now because you’ve forgotten what we feel, look, and smile like. No one will ever remember. Once your generation dies off, we will never have existed. Stories may be told of fields running rampant with hordes of us, but those will only be tall tales, eventually. “Botany” will not be a word, eventually. Landscaping will be a trend of the past, eventually. Astronauts no longer snap photos of their home. Blue and gray don’t compliment each other quite as well as blue and green.


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