The last Impatiens of December?

These little plants never got the environment they deserved. The little rooftop outside our apartment couldn't even provide the minimal amount of light they need to flourish, and I'm pretty sure that, since they are container plants, they were either too wet or too dry much of the summer.

But they made us very happy with what they were able to do under the circumstances, and even this late in the year we can continue to exchange smiles back and forth through windows which are now closed.

Actually I'm perfectly aware that I'm just romanticizing the hard evidence that these little things want to have sex until they die, but that's also a very nice thought. Both they and their spunk will be remembered.

I've always loved the name.

[only after I wrote the paragraphs above, on this day following World AIDS Day, did I think of how the last weeks of these flowers could appear to be a metaphor for the disease which is now never very far from anyone on the planet; while that was not my purpose, I'm very happy if it reads that way]