They told her that her origins were in Eden
and planted the seed that her place
was in an ordained ornamental garden
so they could lock her inside it.
Another lady slipper peeking out of the ground
flaunted in numbers among a contrast of colors
kept fresh for her bed fellows.
They wanted to contain her scent
and bottle it up for themselves
so they could inhale her ad nauseam
until her epidermal layers wrinkled,
then pluck her like she lost her meaning.
But they can’t discard a perennial—
a floral spray with a beating heart
bleeding into the next generation
into all those other wild flowers.
Because she can grow in sun and shade
and harness the temperament of seasons
so her wisdom survives propagation.
So they label her a fragile flower
bending to their words.
While native pollinators conspire,
with the bright relics in the sky,
because she can break it open
and forge an honest paradise.

Renee Cronley is a poet, writer, and nurse from Brandon, Manitoba. She studied Psychology and English at Brandon University, and Nursing at Assiniboine Community College. Her work has appeared in NewMyths.com, Love Letters to Poe, Black Hare Press, Canadian Stories, Dark Dispatch, SmashBear Publishing, and is forthcoming with The Stripes Magazine.