Still Life

The bruised red velvet petals of the three red roses curl in tight, in solidarity, against the invasion of their inner selves. Not so the brazen lily, who bares her soul her fiery orange tongue; resplendent. Soft, pink lacy fingers of the unassuming astilbe reach out to them, in harmony. All hold their breath; lie still on the crisp white linen. Click; click the only sound With a long gentle sigh they relax; knowing their life is recorded for ever.