In the Shade

In the shade of a pink flowering cherry, a red tulip survives. Underneath that densly branched tree, itself overshadowed by another, taller, light greedy pine, that tulip pushed a small yet, intensely glowing bloom. A miniscule rising sun; a beacon in the deep-green dark.
What little light she gets, is carefully saved; pennies and nickels, coupons and favors, she uses to survive. Not enough for a daughter, nor a showy crown. Just enough for a short-lived and intense spark.
She rejects no light. From the porch, a faint electric glow. Tall lamps that hover into the street. Passing cars and that light, the memories of summers, that fall at her waist. Brown leaves dropped and pine needles. From the cauldron of the earth she licks those trace drops. Saves. And hopes. And survives.