The Flower in the Frame

Flower petal crushed to powder

are you crimson, or are you vermillion?

Has the painter yet dragged you over

down the blank, a canvas unborn?

Were you made in strokes, or brushed strikes

mottled paint that's overdried

were you made then, or unmade there,

or are you what you were before?

Cut from a field, cut onto a canvas

the flower stands stoic atop the embankment

the artist, they come, baskets bouquets

and their brushes,

did you change or were they the one to do it?

Copy, paste, Cut, paint -

are you -

the flower in the field, or the flower in the frame?