Lost Peonies

Pale petals scatter across the table

Bleached overnight

They remind me of flamingos

Losing their colour

Not due to age, but care

Sucked white by parenting

I gather up the stamen

Filaments twisting towards the sky

And the lost petals too

I step out into the rain-slick garden

To cast them onto the compost heap

They gleam there, a last flash of

Blanched beauty at the end

Danielle Marie Cahill writes from leafy North London, where she lives with her family. She holds a degree in English from the University of Cambridge, and in 2024 she won The Caledonia Novel Award. Her credits include Bangle, Witches, Witchology, Livina Press, Suburban Witchcraft, Underbelly Press, Quarter Press, and MoonLit Getaway magazines. 
Twitter: @dannihoo Instagram: @daniellecahillwriter