Poem Starting with a Line from Norman Dubie

Today's prompt is pretty specific. The name of the poem is pre-selected, and rather long for my tastes, but a prompt is a prompt~

Poem Starting with a Line from Norman Dubie

My favorite pastime has become the imaginary destruction of flowers.
I watch, figuratively, as their petals dry and fall.
Each theoretical leaf breaks from the stem,
   no longer feeding the plant light.
The ground becomes barren, possibly, and with no water,
   the roots dry and crack. The stem can no longer
   hold itself up. Or so I should think.
Each flower falls to the supposed bone-dry ground.
   Yes, that's how I see it.
   How delightful. How disturbing.

_{Opening line belongs to Norman Dubie}