Poetry Friday: "The Act"

I love how much this poem suggests without actually stating anything other than this: a flower is considered, then picked.

"The Act" by William Carlos Williams

There were the roses, in the rain.
Don’t cut them, I pleaded.
They won’t last, she said.
But they’re so beautiful
where they are.
Agh, we were all beautiful once, she said,
and cut them and gave them to me
in my hand.