Has it happened to you -- plucking the dead or dying leaves, and suddenly on the table behind you, a figure, if not a bouquet? Move a stalk this way, a leaf that way? Hmmm.
Time spent on what is gone, what is doing a disservice to that which remains, what we absently compost to make health more resonant?
Death laid out before us, beautiful, a landscaped graveyard. A tweak here, a tweak there: a still-life.
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