Gone by the season

Yesterday,
I saw her green and titivated in pink,
Confidently she stands,
Like a beauty queen,
Swaying left and right in a rhythmatic motion,
A beauty no eye can ignore,
Even the best designer could never come up with such an idea,

Today,
Where is the beauty
I saw yesterday.
Withered and stripped of all her glory,
Her petal blown away by the wind,
A lone she stands,
Green and plain,
No on notices her.

Then comes an old woman,
Frail and feeble,
She hands me the withered flower.
Yesterday I was that blossom you are,
And today;
Oh beauty,
Just for a season.