Deconstruct

Slowly, recklessly
Beckoning to all
The flake of white sits,
On blue tack to glass wall


It brings not memories warm
Of sticky, summer days
Or the birth of new life
Springing forth flowered vase


Donating no noise
To winds whipping outside
It calls forth the bells
That recreates its pride


Never late with reasoned life
From its perch too soon will fall
The flake of white sits
On blue tack to glass wall